My Friend Al
by TheIncredibleDancingBetty
Summary: After suffering years of brutal torture, Mikey develops an 'imaginary friend' who helps him escape and leads him down a path of blood. WARNING:BLOOD/GORE POSSIBLE CHARACTER DEATH 2nd place fanfic winner best horror 2008
1. A Special Day

A/N: This has to be one of the most disturbing things that I've ever thought of writing, or at least it will end up that way when I'm finished. Remember, this is not the fun loving, joking Mikey we all know so; I'm trying to portray what he'd be like if horrible things happened to him. I'm going to start each chapter with a 'Mikey's thoughts/dream type thing, so don't let it throw you off too much. This first one is probably going to be one of the longest, let me know if it does bug you and I can cut it out. Hopefully I can keep the plot juicy enough to keep your interest!

Chapter 1

A special day

The world. For uncounted days, weeks, and perhaps years, I had a diminished world. Five foot by five foot. What was the world outside like right now? Were the humans still milling around, hurrying to do nothing like they were before? It's amazing how days on end with no one to talk to can expand your thoughts. Do things with your mind. How, if I concentrate, I can remember every hair on my father's face, every word ever said by my family...

The human soul. That's what was going through my mind. The human soul. Is it tangible? Can you touch it, hear it, see it, smell it? How do we know if we have one? What does it mean? Do we have it? Technically we're not human. Some people argue that animals do not have souls. Are we animals? We may have mutated genes, but human is something that we are not. We are turtles. But then again, we are unlike any turtle on this planet.

Do animals have souls? Do mutants count as animals? What does it mean to die? What does it mean to live? What is it that we are doing now, other than using the resources given to us by nature and expelling them back as foul waste? Simply moving bodies going through the motions, how do we know if we're living? What if I'm dead right now? Where do we go when we die? Is there a heaven or do we just blip out of existence like our life force wasn't even there? We always picture it as a bright place with puffy clouds and angels clothed in gold and silk singing their happiness. What if your idea of heaven is a sewer? I don't think the heavenly angels would appreciate me smearing sewer grime and shit on their pristine white clouds. Or maybe they don't have shit in heaven. We just eat and eat and eat great food to make us happy but it goes nowhere. Then again, who's to say that we even eat in heaven? The place is sounding worse and worse by the minute.

Then there's hell. Supposedly full of fire and burns you as demons torture you for eternity or something. Constant screaming and vile things. I'll bet there's shit in there. What if you're a narcissist? What if you enjoy pain? Then traditional hell would be like heaven to them. Maybe they could be sent to heaven for a punishment instead...

I know someone who's going straight to hell.

He's a person who takes delight in torture, even makes new instruments and devices specifically for that purpose. I haven't had a day without pain in so long that I'm used to it. I expect it to happen each day and feel that there's something missing if there is none. What is that? Would it be considered a good thing, adapt and overcome? Well, then again who says that I've even overcome? I'm still lying in this horrible cell, if only it would allow even a single beam of sunlight I would be happy. I think I've forgotten what it feels like, what it looks like. Even a glimpse of the sky in any condition would make me happy. Just one little thing...

Sometimes I wonder why I continue on like this. Why can't a being just turn itself off like you would a defective clock? Why can't we just switch our hearts to the 'rest' position permanently? There were so many times that I wish I could do that...

Is there any purpose to life or is it just God's version of a cruel joke to play on mankind? I wonder if there is a God...

So many questions.

And to think that they will be answered by the days end.

For I have somehow managed to adapt. Now comes the time when I will overcome.

* * *

_Hey. You pissed yourself again._

The hazing dream parted and the real world reared its ugly head once more. I mumbled, struggling to stretch with my hands bound the way that they were. I managed somehow, as I always do. "Oh well, at least it's a little warm." I glanced at the warm pool that I was sitting on, grateful as always for the heat of the stuff in comparison to the chilly cell around me.

_Yeah, but it stinks. Plus once it gets cold, you'll be colder than you are now._

"Shut up, Al." I growled, trying to arch my back. It crackled defiantly, angry at being in one position for so long. You'd think that my bones would be used to it by now! "Life is hard enough without you constantly reminding me about my troubles." I was getting angrier by the minute, my teeth clenching together, eyes flashing. "It's not like I have access to a bathroom. I can't even move from the DAMN wall!" I yelled, jerking the chains so they made a loud clatter. The shackles gave me just enough room so that I could sit down. Flexing my fingers, I could feel the tingling sensation as the feeling came back to them. My arms hanging limp on them constantly, cutting off the circulation in some points made it painful sometimes. But the scar tissue that had built up around my wrists from countless cuts and abrasions made it more bearable. I still twisted restlessly, keyed up with pent up energy.

_Damn. Sorry, Mike. Just thought you should know. I could go if you want to be alone..._

Immediately my heart skipped a cold beat and my eyes flew open. "No, no Al! Please don't go! You know that you're all that I have! I don't like being alone." I stared at the figure sitting in the corner, erethreal and calm. He was an older turtle, with mottled skin and overhanging eyes. He had spotted skin, more so than mine; or so he says. He never carried any weapons, he never needed to because he was the ultimate ninja, though I've never seen him strike a single blow. With a single thought he could vanish in the eyes of my enemies. He was my only friend in this world and I just can't imagine what I did before him.

I blinked and he appeared by my side, leaning on my shoulder as he peered at the floor. _At least the crap you did last night shifted to the side_. He said, chuckling, looking at the brown pile sitting by my side instead of under me..

I grinned at his words and grimaced at the smell at the same time. "Yeah, but it still stinks. It always smells worse than pee."

_Shit usually does._

"So what day is it?" I asked in monotone, still doing my little stretching routine.

He rolled his eyes. _You ask me that every day and I tell you the same thing every day. I don't know. _I looked up at him and saw that he was sitting on the wall again, something no ordinary mortal could do. Man, he was amazing. His smile flashed brightly at me. _I know why this day is special, though..._

I grinned at the thought, but for some reason the unknown of it forced my mind to skitter back from it. I looked at my plastron while managing to scoot up enough that I could scratch my head. It had been itching all night. "Well, like I've said before, I must've been caught a long time ago, for those surgery scars to heal." The sloppy surgical scars crossed my plastron at various places, I knew what they were each for. The one on my right chest was when they took my lung, the one across my abdomen was part of my liver, then there's that other one for the segment of my intestine, and the one for my kidney. I shuddered when I thought about it.

Al looked at me. _Thinking about the kidney again?_

I nodded, smiling. He was so observant and understanding! The kidney was especially bad. You see, Bishop didn't use anesthesia. He gave the paralytic agent to paralyze you that regular hospitals used, but saw the drug that put you to sleep as a 'waste of money.' The kidney was worse than the others because he couldn't take it out through the back like he did with humans because of my shell, he had to start at the front. It was one of the many times that I wished I wasn't a turtle. The pain was always intense, I was in shock for a couple of weeks after the first surgery, but sadly after that I slowly became used to the pain. I expected it. I even began to feel that something was missing when a day went by without it.

_I still say that you embarrassed yourself with that one._

My temper flared suddenly and my eyes flashed. "What the fk do you expect! I knew he was going to cut into me again!" I snarled, jerking my body so the chains rattled loudly. Against my wishes, my mind drifted back to that time I had begged him, pleaded with him, practically sobbed at his feet. All for a simple drug to make me fall asleep. I know that he enjoyed it, it was the first time that I had broken down in front of him and I know that he had rejoiced for it. He had won that day.

_Well, just be happy that there isn't much more that he can take out with you living. Despite all that he's doing he obviously wants to keep you alive. Then again, _he tapped his chin, _I do remember a story about a girl who could live with half a brain..._

"Stop it, Al. We go through this too many times. You can stop it, please." I whispered with my eyes shut tight. Horrible images danced through my mind of forceps, needles, scalpels, knives, different instruments of torture and burning... I blinked and for some reason looked at my skin. It was unrecognizable from what I had before, this I knew but only vaguely. I hardly remembered what I looked like before, hell I haven't even seen sunlight in God knows how long. My skin wasn't smooth in any place, it was puckered, dimpled, raised and swollen permanently. Scars were laid upon scars, in some areas the scar tissue made my skin so thick that I had no sensation in it. I blinked and looked at my friend. Even as I opened my mouth to speak I knew that it wouldn't be the same voice that I probably grew up with. Through different experiments and chemicals my voice would forever be raspy, scratchy and rough. "I wish I knew what you really looked like, Al."

_What are you talking about? I'm right here._

"You know what I mean, what color you are and stuff. I miss color. I hardly remember what it's like."

_Hey, this is a day of celebration, remember?_

I looked to the side, shifting uncomfortably in my shackles. "Oh, I don't know..."

Immediately he was in my face like a spirit, glaring at me. I cringed beneath his stare. _What are you talking about, Michelangelo? We talked about this! Now is the perfect time! They have become complacent, used to you. Bishop is even getting bored with you...think about what that might mean. Today you will bathe in their blood and dance upon their corpses. You have trained for this. What about all those hours in the hamster cage?_

I looked at him, wondering. What was wrong with me? He was right! If ever I needed to act, now was the time. When I first got here, they had me under lock and key. Now that I've been here so long, they've become lazy, they made mistakes. Even worse, I was getting complacent. That's what was wrong with me. I was uneasy about the world outside, it was the unknown. Furiously, I forced myself to think of the room that we had dubbed 'the hamster cage.' To keep me in relatively good health it required exercise, so daily they'd lock me in a room full of different instruments to be used for exercise, even a 'hamster wheel' for running; hence where we got the name. I had trained diligently in that room, honing the skills I knew with Al as my faithful tutor. Even as my prisoners packed up and moved every so often, the hamster cage never changed. "You're right. I'm getting lazy, too. I mean, here I am stronger than I've been in a long time both from training and experiments and I'm double thinking myself!" I let out a single sob. "This isn't right, promise me you'll help me, Al! Please!"

All at once he was a soothing presence. I could almost feel him touch me gently if I concentrated on it. _Of course, my friend. What else could I do other than help you? I could never survive without you, you know that. We're like zig and zag. You can't have one without the other. We are inseperable. _He smiled, showing his teeth in what was almost a snarl. _Together, you and me, we will massacre this entire building. Their corpses will rain from the sky. Everyone who hurt you, who stood by as you were suffering, they will all pay. We will make them pay together._

My heart thudded excitedly against my plastron as I shifted in anticipation. "Yeah, it'll be great..." my eyes dilated and I stared at the door where they would come to collect me. I could just imagine their sneering faces as they went about the daily task of collecting me. Al was right, of course. They were complacent. They had long since stopped drugging me every time I was moved; though that was mostly my fault. In an attempt to disconnect myself from a potentially very painful and or at least humiliating and degrading experience, I had learned to 'turn myself off.' My eyes would glaze over, and my mind would wander to somewhere other than the present. I was never able to become completely separate from my body, I was always painfully aware of what they were doing to my body, but at least it was more bearable. It was during one of these episodes that I met Al, actually…

Shaking my head, my thoughts returned to what was to come. The death. The vengence. They would pay for the crimes they committed against me with their lives. And I would enjoy it, separating their souls from their physical bodies permanently. "Man, I wonder what my family would think about what I'm going to do today..."

_**DON'T THINK ABOUT THEM!!**_

I blinked. "Hey. Sorry man. Didn't mean to make you feel bad, you know. Sorry." I looked at him seething and looked away. How could I keep hurting him like this? This is so wrong...

_Hey, Mike? Sorry about that. I just..._ he shook his head. _After what they did to you...I could never forgive them. I don't understand how you could ever have good thoughts about them at all but you're such a wonderful person that I guess that I shouldn't be surprised. _He smiled warmly at me. _That's why I took you in. Because of your golden heart._

I smiled back at him. "And I love you for it, man. I can't help but think at least a little kindly of them, they gave me many good years before they abandoned me." Shaking my head, I fought back the old sorrow. "I just can't believe that they'd do something like that..."

_Well, they did! I saw it with my own two eyes! Why else would you still be in here? Why didn't they rescue you? For every other brother they went through hell and high water to protect but when you get taken down what happens? They leave you here to rot like a piece of old trash! They are scum!!_

I winced but nodded. Of course he was right. He was always right.

What could I be thinking? Kind thoughts of my former family…all that they'd do would be to abandon me again. I don't matter to them. That's why when I escaped, I would go to live happily alone with my only family, Al.

Suddenly the old lock on the door jiggled slightly. They were coming! I tensed, yet at the same time the lull began to cast itself over me. I resisted it, but wasn't entirely sure how. I had welcomed it so often, this 'turning myself off' feeling, it had kept my sanity. Though my mind strained against it, my body struggled to relax against it.

_What are you doing? We need to get ready for the attack! We need to escape! You will be disposed of soon, do you want that? MICHELANGELO!!_

But it continued uninhibited. I hadn't anticipated this, going against my learned survival instinct, battling against my own mind. I could even feel my eyes start to glaze as the two men approached me with hard hands.

Al screamed in my ear as I sighed. Maybe I just wasn't cut out to escape, maybe I was meant to die. At least then there'd be peace…

* * *

A/N: Well...how'd you like it? PLEASE let me know, I've been fretting over this thing for so long that I MUST know! It'll encourage the second chapter that I already have nearly finished. I welcome anonymous reviews and adore ramblers, so feel free to give me your thoughts, predictions and complaints so I know what audience I'm working with here.

Toodles!


	2. Escape, Revenge and Old Faces

Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles

A/N: I haven't been this motivated with a fic in a long time! Thank you all for reviewing and helping to fuel that motivation, it is because of you that this is being posted today! This is probably going to end up to be a pretty long chapter, hope it doesn't drag on at all for you. Special thanks to Damgel for helping me hammer this thing out. Enjoy!

Chapter 2 Escape, Revenge and Old Faces

* * *

Laughter. Smiling faces and happy places. Jokes and games, love and joy. I remember it all vaugely yet with great distinction. A family. The image in my mind radiates the warmth that I must have felt at those times. I wish that I could feel the warmth again. Carefree. Pain free.

I remember the support. Forgiveness. Kindness. A sense of belonging.

No walls, no chains. I didn't know what it truly meant to be imprisoned...I didn't understand what it really meant to be free.

I had thought that I knew what it meant to know fear, to know hardship and pain. It was only after coming here that I realized how incredibly ignorant and naive I truly was.

Adventures. We had each other's back. Never would the other go unguarded. We were like one unit, one being. Even when we were arguing we were still together. I rarely had disagreements. Whenever they would scuffle, I would dance at the sidelines, keep out of the way, then make peace and bring laughter. That was my job, peacekeeper and morale officer. I wonder if I could still laugh right now? It would sure sound different, with the things they did to my throat. The operation, the chemicals...my voice is rougher, a bit raspy. No one would recognize it. My laughter probably wouldn't sound joyous at all, it would be like nails on a chalkboard or something to make little kids scream in fear. When's the last time I laughed?...

Then it all ended.

Struggle. It was a struggle. No matter how I play it through my mind I can't think of it straight. It was the beginning of hell. My own personal hell brought to me by a simple dart. An innocent device made of a slender needle, a hollow chamber, and thin shaft. And it gave me all of this. What a gift. What a gift...

* * *

__

Hey! We gotta get moving!

I shook my head. My thoughts seemed so clouded...was I asleep? Groaning I rubbed my head and staggered slightly, surprised to find myself standing and unrestrained, yet at the same time not surprised at all. I grasped wildly at my thoughts. Images danced through my mind, enticing yet showing nothing. What just happened? I blinked and my vision cleared. Al was pacing nervously, looking agitated, his golden eyes flashing. He motioned me to hurry.

_Stop f#king around! We need to move! NOW!_

Blinking the haze away, I took a step and nearly tripped over something heavy on the floor. A strong, painfully familiar coppery smell wafted into my nose. Grimacing as I felt my heartbeat quicken, I looked down. My eyes widened in surprise as I could feel bile rise in my throat.

Two workers were lying at my feet. I knew both of them, I had seen them too many times...the one that I tripped on was missing all the meat in his throat. Where his adam's apple should have been there was nothing but a gaping, ragged hole, tendrils of flesh hanging like wet red yarn. Frothy red bubbles were formed at the bottom of the massive wound, presumably where his windpipe was ripped out, signifying his last gasps of breath. The thick pool of blood that he had formed was so fresh that it still glistened in the flourescent lighting.

The second man's body was intact, save his face. His eyes, eyelids, everything in his eye sockets was gone. He simply had two gaping, cavernous holes where his eyes were supposed to be. His body was twisted in the last throws of death, his mouth still gaping open voicing a silent scream. I could almost imagine those empty sockets blinking.

"W-what happened?" I stammered. My heart fluttered in my chest. I looked behind me. I didn't know what to think. The door to my cell was hanging open, the chains still dangled on the wall and the crap still littered the floor. A strange coldness traveled down my spine to my legs. When did I leave?

Al was in no mood to answer questions._We killed them. They got what they deserved, now let's go!_

_"_But-but how?" Then I heard the drip. Immediately I looked down and gasped when I found my hands covered in blood, so thick and fresh that blood still slowly dripped from my knuckles and fingertips. I had splashes and splatters of scarlet across my legs, plastron, and arms like a sticky lotion. Probably had some on my face too. I noticed some clear jelly looking stuff on the tips of my fingers. Eyeing the wiggly substance I looked at Al for answers, my eyes wide.

Still looking anxious, he calmed down a bit as he looked at me. _Look, when the door opened, you froze so...I helped you. As I said the bstards got what they deserved for what they did to you. As for the stuff on your fingers_...He shrugged..._I guess now you know what's on the inside of eyeballs._

Looking at the man with the empty eyesockets it only took a blink of my own eyes to piece together what happened. It hit me hard in the chest like a heavy blow. Slowly I rubbed my fingertips together, the eye-jelly sliding between them with a slimy sensation. A feeling of awe overcame me, traveling down my spine to my limbs like hot electricity. Al could help me with things like that? My hands trembled. Amazing. I was truly fortunate to have him as a friend. As for the men...I looked down on them. My eyes widened, bloodshot, and I grimaced, showing my teeth as I panted slightly. My hands trembled as images of cruelty flashed before my eyes, memories...memories with their faces. A smirk played across my lips as I recognized them. They had worked here for some time and brought me to my places of torture. As flashbacks of cruel surgeries and painful experiments played through my brain like an erotic dancer, a feeling of euphoria overcame me. The excitement sent tingles through my muscles down into my fingertips in a long-forgotten feeling of elation. Practically dancing on my toes I broke into a wide grin, my eyes somehow dazed yet focused. I got them! I got those dirty dogs! They helped heap the torture upon me for days on end, now they are dead! With Al's help I'll get the rest of them!

I could feel Al's excitement beside me as he saw me mentally piece everything together. My heart thudding frantically against my chest I almost let out a whoop as a crazed feeling seized my brain with the animosity of a rabid animal. Grinning, he rejoiced with me but quickly signaled the need for silence. _Shhhh. We musn't warn the other mangy dogs of your escape. Quickly, grab some weapons and lets find the other vermin and punish them for their crimes!_

"Yes!" I whispered hoarsly. Shoving the bodies aside, I grabbed their weapons which consisted of tonfas and stun guns. Peeling off their belts, I had to link both of them together to fit it around my own waist and swiftly attached the stun guns and one of the tonfas into the loops. The other one I grasped securely in my hand. Electricity sizzling through my muscles to the point of near seizures, I sprinted down the hall, the pads of my feet barely touching the floor.

All this time I had trained for this moment, not sure if it would come or not, now finally with Al's generous help I have achieved it! With choice moves I could end up on top with my fingers around Bishop's throat. Then I'd show him as much mercy as he showed me...

My body was different than when I came in here. Hours of dedication in the hamster cage, constant strain, plus a generous filling out and bulking up partially attributed to my physical maturity had transformed myself into a force to be reckoned with. I pounded down the hallway, heavy but light all at once, my thick wiry muscles hardly straining in thier excitement at what was to come. I didn't run, I flew, I floated... Bloodshed, vengence...

I ran down the familiar hallway, thinking about how I had traveled down the hallway in the past either strapped to a table or drugged, practically dragging on the floor. The lights had looked eerie and ominous then while passing in flashes, the shiny floor full of wrath and hate, the pristine white walls laughing at me in my inprisonment. Now the tables had turned...

I rammed through the double doors like a football player on steroids. I struck them so hard that they slammed against the other wall and broke through the plaster. Two nurses in full scrubs and surgical gowns screamed at the sight of me and bolted. Their sounds of terror sent fresh jolts of energy coarsing through my veins. My body moved without a thought. Snarling I lunged forward and grabbed one of them forcefully by her hair, yanking her so hard she flew off her toes. I hurled her against the wall with a loud crack! She crumpled to the floor. The other one got further away, but in two bounds I was upon her. Al's glorious laughter echoed loudly in the room, spurring me on with renewed energy. Screaming as I pinned her down with my body I wrapped my hands around her neck and smacked her skull on the hard tile floor. Her expression faltered as I did it again, and again, and again...finally I realized that the back of her head was nothing but a bloody pulp and scarlet already arced across the floor. I looked at the lifeless body in my hands...for a brief instant I faltered... _You were glorious. This is only the beginning, Michelangelo. We must continue, make them all pay! Make the dirty dogs pay!_

He was right. He was always right. "Yes." I whispered even as I got off of the human's limp body. Her eyes stared up sightlessly but I hardly noticed as I turned, pushing her out of the way with my foot. "We'll make them pay." My eyes shot to the second set of doors, the one that led to one of the surgical rooms. Shoving aside sterile metal carts holding various medical equipment, I kicked those doors aside even as my vision flashed bright white...

Suddenly I saw myself strapped to a table, coming through those doors with fear in my heart. The doctors behind thier surgical smocks and masks looked upon me as though I were a dog, worse than a dog. They ignored my frantic cries as they might ignore a fly buzzing about the room. Bishop stepped forward, smiling even through his mask as his scalpel flashed in the bright light. Blood welled at the incision as his laughter mixed with my pain..._MICHELANGELO!!_

I blinked and suddenly before me I saw two surgeons, none of them Bishop, standing staring at me with completely shocked surprise. A limp, hairless, nude form lay before them uncovered, his abdomen cut open wide. His unblinking eyes seemed to drill into me even as red slowly leaked into my vision. Pivoting on my foot I grabbed the nearest thing to me, a small surgical table. Picking it up easily, I hurled it with as much force as I could muster at the nearest standing figure. The solid metal struck his skull and he flew backward. I was already moving before it even reached him. Bounding forward, I collapsed my leg and slipped easily under the table where the dead man lay, sliding on my shell. Coming neatly by the legs of the second surgeon I knocked his leg out from under him with a wicked blow. Switching my weight to the ball of my hand I let my foot arc up and crash into his nose before his skull even hit the floor. The wet, crunchy smack sounded terrific.

Standing up, adrenaline still pouring through my veins I looked sadly at the incredibly pale dead man, his insides open for all to see, his skin peeled back like a sick banana. Several of his insides were missing... Maybe they were harvesting his organs...either way his battle is over. Reaching up with my bloodstained fingertips I gently closed his eyes and stroked his cheek softly. Then I looked at the tiny black dome that held the camera and flicked it off before continuing on to my next battle.

The next two surgical rooms were empty but I trashed them anyway, as though I could combat the memories that I had spent in those rooms by eliminating their use for future torture. By the time that I had gotten through with them they were beyond repair and I had a nice arsenal of shiny surgical instruments.

The guards were glorious. I recognized every single one of them. At one point and time I had felt the stinging blows from all of them at least once; punishing me for some real or imagined indiscrescion, on Bishop's orders, preventing my escape into freedom or just for the hell of it. At all times I sported their bruises, cuts or penetrations. It seemed that there was never a day when I didn't feel the pain they inflicted on me. I used the tonfas upon them with great joy, vividly remembering all the times when the same items struck my own body. The hard weapon pounded into their flesh, broke their bones, turned thier faces into nothing but bloody pulps, and crushed digits, kneecaps and throats.

The only thing better was the looks on their faces as I came upon them. Due to rules of the 'hospital' they were forbidden from carrying guns; in other words they didn't have a snowball's chance in hell. And they knew it. I ecsatically leapt towards them as they screamed in fear, struggled to get away, fought against me to no avail, and begged for mercy. I had no mercy to give. Memories flirted with my brain of times that I had pleaded for them to stop, requested peace, wallowed for mercy. They had none to give either. As I harvested my bloody revenge I was living in the past, living through all the painful memories as I spliled their blood, my world consisted of only them and me. I was aware of nothing else.

I beat down their carcasses before they even hit the ground, taking out my vengence with Al whooping with joy at my side. I moved from one to the other, hardly aware of the time in between. Blood spattered on the wall, made the lights shine red, cast a scarlet gloss on the floor and tasted coppery upon my tongue as the drops fell upon it.

When it was all over and I had gone through the last of them I was so keyed up I could hardly see straight. Al was practically dancing his delight, praising me with words worthy of a scholar. My muscles trembled with exertion and excitement. My eyes, wide and dilated stared straight ahead of me as my breath came in excited pants. A hand appeared in front of me and I nearly jumped upon it until I realized who it was_. _

_Michelangelo! We should go...look at the lights!_

Lights? Suddenly I was aware of the red flashing light that blinked everywhere. How could I not have seen it? Tensing, I bolted down the hallway, checking the rooms. Why were all the rooms empty? Abandoned chairs and desks were the only things inhabiting each space. What was going on? How did I miss everyone?

_They must've evacuated the building. We have to get out of here!_

_I_ growled deep in my throat, my body still tense from battle. "NO! What about Bishop?"Who do you think would be the first to leave? That dirty mangy coward Bishop!

_We must take our revenge upon him at another time. We can't do anything if you aren't alive to do it!_

I shook my head, my body tensing. "Maybe he's still here, maybe I could still get to him, maybe._.._

_"NO!!_

I started at the sound of his voice. Al appeared right before me, his nose to mine. I licked my lips nervously even as the red lights continued their flashing all about me. "Uh, Al?"

_Why do you doubt me now? After all I've done for you? You should know better, you really should. Now stop f#king around and lets get out of here before the calvary arrives, Michelangelo._

I felt chastened and nodded. Of course. Why didn't I see it? As usual, Al was the voice of reason, the voice of truth, the voice of wisdom. He always knew the right thing to say, because that's just who he was. "Sorry, Al. You're right. We should go." I looked around to get my bearings_._

_Yes! That's right! We got all of these mangy dogs, that's quite an achievement for one day. Pace yourself. Let Bishop live for a little bit, let him know fear. Every shadow he sees he'll see you. Every sound he hears will be you. You will haunt him even before you strike!_

What did I say? He could say no wrong! Grinning at the thought, I loped easily down the hall in a ground covering pace. Al flitted from one side to the other like a fluid spirit, urging me on_._

Then, suddenly, I saw another man at the end of the hallway. He looked at the blood-coated hallway with utter horror in his eyes. His jaw dropped, trembling violently and a dark spot appeared at the crotch of his pants. I smiled as I watched his fear. I knew him. Not a guard per say, but the _captain_ of the guards! He _lived_ for brutality. Well, as a wise voice from my past always said, you treat people the way you want to be treated. Immediately my priorities changed.

He screamed and scrambled over his feet to get away as I pounded mercilessly down the hall. Each thundering footstep seemed to echo ominously. He was slow, like a wounded bird. I was going to enjoy him.

Sobbing furiously, he kicked open an emergency exit that was carefully camouflaged with the wall and scrambled outside. I tried to resist my laughter. I hadn't even noticed the hidden exit. He just provided me with a way out. The door hadn't even closed when I reached it, shoving it open furiously. He was on the fire escape, not even to the stairwell yet.

Pitiful. Pitiful and slow.

Swinging my arms back I kicked high. My foot planted itself in his face and, screaming, he fell backwards off the fire escape. Immediately I was on the railing, looking down. He screamed as he fell and landed on the dumpster in the alley. Not in it, but _on_ it. His back hit the metal siding with a cracking sound. His scream faltered, but he still crumpled to the dirty alley floor. He didn't move for a moment, then lifted himself up by his hands, his feet still unmoving. He stared at them for a second, then up at me and screamed again. Then using only his hands he started to drag himself away. My smile widened. He was paralyzed. This was going to be easy.

Al was beside me, looking decidedly nervous. _Michelangelo, there's something here!_

I waved him off. Nothing could beat me right now, not when I was at my peak! I leapt easily to the street level. It was the dead of night, hardly anything moved. Nobody was here.

_They're here, you need to leave now!!_

He was frantic, clearly upset about something. About who? Why leave? What? I shook my head and approached the man, he was sobbing, pleading with me. My expression hardened. How many times had I pleaded with him?

_They're here. Run Mikey run!_

Al was pacing in front of me. I was perplexed. Surely he could see that there was no one here? I shook my head. "No, not until he's dead."

Al snarled at me. _You impudent fool! Fine then! Kill him quickly! We must go now to find Bishop!_

I nodded. It was true, Al was right, he was always right, Bishop was our top priority. I quickened my step towards the man. His sobbing and blubbering intensified as I approached, you couldn't understand him at all by the time that I reached him. Grasping his shoulder, I shoved him against the brick wall. He opened his mouth so wide in his screams that I couldn't help it. With a gnarled hand I grasped his bottom jaw and, with muscles tense, wrenched his jaw clear off.

"MIKEY!!"

I froze even as the guard captain continued to scream, his blood pumping out of him in gushes. That voice sounded intimately familiar. Where did I hear it before? My heart fluttered fearfully against my chest and my alarm systems fired up. I had just escaped, there was no way in hell I was going back. I was in a killing mood.

_You dissappoint me. They've seen you. Now you must kill them or face hell once more._

Them? I looked up but squinted to see the shadowy figures better. On shocked legs they stepped forward and I gasped so hard I felt it in my chest.

It was my family.

_They're the ones that abandoned you! They practically turned you over to Bishop before, and now they suddenly show up just as you escape? Kind of convenient, don't you think? They mean to turn you back in! You must kill them NOW!!_

Their faces were stricken in a way that I've never seen before. Unconsiously I scanned over their faces. Raphael, Leonardo, Donatello. So familiar, yet...not. They were older, as I was, yet time had obvioustly been kind to them in comparison to me. I studied their faces. They were the same as I remembered. Right now they stared at me through wide eyes covered by colored bandanas. I don't remember the last time I wore a bandana. Thier mouths gaped open, and their hands reached out partially, as though not sure to commit to the gesture. Instantly I was inflamed. They didn't know what to do after seeing me! What else were they supposed to do but-

_Beware! Trust nothing they do! Remember Michelangelo, I am your friend. They are your enemy! Who was it that left you? THEM! Who was it that held your hand through your pain? ME! Now I tell you to either KILL them or FLEE NOW! Do not hesitate or they will twist it to their advantage!_

One of them...Raphael...stepped forward and stared at me. I could hear the man's whimper's still annoying me at my side. With a slight afterthought I kicked at him hard, crunching his neck into pulp. He was silent. Raphael jumped at the move, his eyes seemed to grow larger, more...wet. I could hear one of the others...Donatello...retching behind him. Leonardo stepped forward behind Raphael, his hands trembling violently. Other than that they remained silent. Raphael approached closer. I backed up until my shell hit the dumpster. I looked around frantically, wanting to escape yet remaining rooted to the spot. My heart thudding hard against my chest, thick in my throat. I remained frozen as he reached out and touched my cheek lightly. His touch scalded into my flesh like fire. I winced and jerked my head away.

"Mike...what happened to you?" He whispered softly.

_ATTACK HIM! ATTACK HIM NOW!!_

"No..." I whispered hoarsly. Al, screamed at me, furious. Viciously he stabbed a finger at Raphael. I Knew what he wanted. I couldn't welcome them, but I couldn't do that..."no..."

Raphael backed up, painful confusion clearly echoed on his face. The other two started to come towards me as well. A sudden, intense feeling of claustrophobia swept over me heavily. It was too much, they were too close...I couldn't do it. Raphael reached for me again...just like Bishop reached for me again and again and again and again...

I caught his wrist and twisted it severely while yanking him harshly onto my bent knee. I shoved his plastron hard against my uncovered kneecap and swung my other fist simotaneously into his temple. Caught completely by surprise, he fell easily to the side. Immediately the one with the katana...Leonardo...lunged for me. Silver flashed in my hand and blood welled up on his arm from a neat slice from his shoulder to his elbow. Shocked, Donatello wisely kept his distance.

Scraping my shell on the dumpster I slid away from them, grasping the scalpel tightly in my hand. Raphael got up and stood beside the others, their shocked expressions changing slightly even as they approached me. Leonardo looked at his bleeding arm and back at me, pain in his eyes that was something other than physical pain...Donatello reached into his bag and panic seized through me.

_What did I tell you! They mean you nothing but ill will! Why don't you listen to me? Never have I steered you wrong!_

I scrambled backwards and tripped over a piece of trash. My shell hit the pavement hard but I was hardly aware of it. Al was besides me, offering support as always. "I'm so sorry...never again...please...forgive me...please..." I whispered hoarsely.

_Of course I will. I could never hold a grudge against you. Now let's get you away from them!_

They approached closer, moving towards me as they would a frightened deer. Thier expressions softened. "Of course, Mikey." Donatello crooned softly. Tears were spilling down his cheeks.

"We just want you back..." Raphael whispered. His voice cracked.

Leonardo approached me with outstretched arms. "Please, Michelangelo. Let us take you home...please."

_What is your home to them, Michelangelo?_

At his words an image flashed in my mind of a 5 by 5 cell, chains on the wall and shit littering the floor. I scrambled to my feet. "NOOOO!" Panic racing through my veins I bolted, running faster than I ever remember running before. I tore down the alley and sprinted across the street in plain view and into the next alley. Not even aware where I was going, I just ran. Looking behind me, I sobbed at the sight of them pursuing me. They were chasing me! They were calling out my name!

_They mean to take you back, Michelangelo. Don't let them! I am your friend, they are not! Trust me!_

"Yes, yes I do Al! I trust you! Please! PLEASE!" I didn't even know what I was begging for as I ran, but I still heard them behind me. They were catching up.

It all happened at once. A cat jumped into a garbage can ahead of me, causing it to spill onto the alley. A can rolled out of it, going right where my foot was placed. The thing rolled under me and next thing I knew I had hit the pavement hard, my face scraping the asphalt. Dazed, I got to my wobbly feet and shook my head. I was in the middle of the road, I was...

**BEEEEEP! BEEEP-BEEEEEEEP!**

I turned around as the blinding lights of a semi came roaring at me. Staring into that bright light I froze. Was this going to be the end! The engine roared as the driver honked even louder. Al was screaming something beside me but I didn't hear him, all that I could see was this...

A strong hand grasped my arm and yanked me to the side. The main body of the truck passed me with a _whoosh_ but not before that extending side mirror struck the side of my head. The blow sent me spinning, both physically and not. Many hands grabbed me all over, supporting me, lifting me. I twisted weakly even as my vision began to get hazy. They were carrying me, like the guards would sometimes carry me. I groaned and begged shamelessly. "No...not again...please...no..."

One of the turtles sobbed. "It's okay Mikey boy, you're going home."

I obeyed the drowsiness and drifted off to sleep, that was always the best way to deal with the pain. The last thing I heard was Al whispering to me, _I'll protect you. Don't worry, I'll protect you...you don't belong to them, you are mine and always will be..._

_

* * *

_A/N: That was WAY longer than I thought it would be, but I just couldn't end it until I got to this point. Hope that it was an enjoyable read even still. Again, ramble away, let me know what you think. Feel free to give predictions of what you think should happen and such, critique away, and just tell me if you like it. Looking forward to hearing from you!

Toodles!


	3. Home Sweet Home

Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles

A/N:This one was actually a little hard to get started, but I am pretty satisfied with it right now. Let me know if you have any suggestions or wishes for the future chapters.

Chapter3

Home Sweet Home

* * *

Home is where the heart is.

Or so they say.

What if you're not sure where your heart is, or if the entire organ still resides in your own body? What then?

My home used to be wonderful. Physically it changed several times. But there was always a constant. Always a rock. My family. No matter where we went, I was never alone. I never wanted to be alone. Even with chaos swirling threateningly around me, I felt safe. I felt secure. That's what you're supposed to feel when you're truly home, right? It was as though everything going on around me was a great, foaming rapids. Upon my rock I stood, perfectly protected, as the violent water swirled menacingly around me, sending sprays of frustration into the air because they could never reach me.

I was safe.

But then that rock disappeared. I fell into the icy cold water, which welcomed my presence with glee, dragging me roughly on the rocky bottom. With no waiting around the river immediately set me on a course, one that ensured that I meet painfully with every rock, bramble bush, and every other imaginable pain and obstacle possible. My skin tore, I bled, and the tears flowed. I sought wildly for some stability, some hope, but found none like what I had.

As I cried out in fear and pain, I just couldn't help but wondering: whatever happened to my rock?

* * *

_Wake up! Michelangelo, wake up!_

My eyelids felt incredibly heavy as I willed them to open. The first thing that I noticed was my arms. They were heavy, leaden, almost numb. I wiggled my fingers out of habit and found that they weren't numb at all, then I realized what was wrong. They weren't suspended above me head, which is how I was used to waking up. For a moment I was perplexed. How was I supposed to sleep properly like this? No wonder I woke up, wonder if they're going to come in here and fix this…

As my eyelids finally creaked open I sucked in a breath at what I saw.

A room. A room much bigger than the one that I remember. So many sights so terribly different from the plain steel walls of my cell that my eyes couldn't decide what to look at first, instead darted everywhere at once. My heart fluttered slightly as I began to panic. I don't understand, where's my room? Shifting in my spot, I noticed soft fabric under my fingers. I yanked back my hand as though it burned me. Blankets? A bed? A pillow? Then I noticed my skin itself. I was scrubbed clean. Soft. I hadn't been this clean in so long, the guard's version of a bath was to tie me down and spray me with a high powered hose...What was going on here! My muscles twitched as a familiar yet entirely different panic finally seized me. The unknown was everywhere. Looming over me threateningly. Suddenly I longed for the steel so familiar…

__

Michelangelo! Snap out of it! You don't want to wake them, do you?

Such was my panic that it took a second for Al's voice to reach through to me. He waited patiently at the foot of my bed, ever my rock of stability. Seeing him I relaxed, taking in a deep breath, and waited for my heart to calm down. Patiently he smiled and made the motions of deep breathing beside me with his hands, helping me inhale…exhale…inhale…exhale…

I grinned shakily as I rubbed my head with a trembling hand, still made nervous by how unencumbered it was. "Sorry Al…"

__

SILENCE!!

I slapped my hands over my mouth in sudden fear, my eyes wide, though at what I had no idea. Al put a finger to his lips, then pointed at the corner. I followed his motion. It was only for the hands covering my mouth that I was able to conceal a loud gasp.

Someone was sitting in the corner. A very hairy someone. Slowly taking my hands from my mouth I leaned a little bit closer, though to study him closely I would have to take several big steps across the floor, something I was not about to do.

The creature was a rat, human sized but small. Though thin, I could see the wiry muscle beneath the fur as he slouched in slumber on a padded chair, his chin propped up by a walking stick while wearing a tattered robe. And he was very frail and tired looking. As though he'd been through hard times as well. I smiled slightly, and it was that motion that painfully brought back more memories that Al and I had expertly hid.

I clutched my head as images flowed before me. Me as a child, sick and nursed back to health, lonely and given comfort, hurt and treated with a kiss and a cookie…Master Splinter! Father!

My eyes flew open, shocked as I swung my head to stare at the figure once more. Al loped into my field of vision, an odd smile on his face. _Do you recognize where you are now, Michelangelo? Look around._

I instantly obeyed and gazed about the room. The first thing that my eyes and nose told me was that it was dusty, only recently, hastily cleaned. My nostrils flared at the unaccustomed absence of filth and feces but I manage to ignore it. The walls had posters of super heroes, stacks of comics lined an entire wall, as well as various DVD's, all promising loads of action, sci fi, or monsters on the cover. Several long orange bandanas hung from my bedpost. I was tempted to touch one but resisted, suddenly unsure what to do with them. Couple these with various items like several rubber chickens, an Elvis clock, plastic bugs, several skateboards and video games. Overall it was blissfully cluttered, innocent and...cheery. I felt somehow that I should recognize this…

__

This is what used to be your room, before they abandoned you to Bishop.

Yes! Yes, that's right! I remember it now. I bobbed my head, smiling at Al. He was right, he was always right. Suddenly I winced as a wave of dizziness came over me. Gingerly I touched the side of my head and was surprised to feel bandages. It was only then, at the wound's recognition that I realized it hurt. Even then I shrugged off the sharp, pulsing pain. Compared to what I went through previously, this was nothing. But where did I get it?

Al seemed to read my mind. _A truck clipped you in the head. After you were righteously extracting your revenge, your old family came and chased you down until a truck hit you. Then they carried you here as you were unconscious and unable to prevent them. _He smirked. _I think they expected you to make some sort of sound when you woke up, probably from the pain. This is yet another example of how they don't even understand what they put you through._

I nodded. He was right. He was always right. No wonder my room smelled of dust. They hadn't even bothered to step inside it since I was gone. But why bring me back here? Wouldn't they turn me into Bishop again, like Al has said in the past? I fortified myself with memories of my escape. The old energy coursed in my veins, electrifying my muscles. I could do this...

__

We must leave, Michelangelo. And be sure not to make a sound. They are not your true family, they cannot hear me at all like you can, so I will help guide you.

Slowly I eased myself up from the mattress, having to swallow the unease at the feel of soft springs below my fingers. As soon as I was standing the first thing I wanted to do was find a closet or a corner, somewhere not so…open. I resisted the urge even as I gulped at the prospect of crossing that huge expanse of floor on my own.

Just then Al materialized beside me, beaming a smile at me. I smiled back. What was wrong with me? I wasn't alone! Al, as always, was my support! Together we crossed the floor, our footfalls silent and steady. I stared at Splinter as we passed him, slumped in his chair. Resisting the urge to stroke his fur, I simply stared. I could almost see that head, so familiar, talking wisdom. I remembered getting into trouble, back then I could do nothing right…The fur on his cheeks was plastered to his skin by something wet while the rest of his fur was still fluffy…Al waved his hand before my eyes.

__

Michelangelo! What's the matter with you! The longer you spend in here the more likely you'll get caught! Let's get moving!

Breaking myself from my reverie, I nodded. Of course. What was I thinking? I needed to escape. I refused to be imprisoned again. Pressing my fingers on the old door, I stared at a poster of Silver Sentry tacked onto it. I shook my head. Superheroes, they don't truly exist. How could I have been so naïve and stupid to put my trust in them? They could turn a blind eye to another's pain the same as everyone else. It was very difficult to resist ripping the thing apart. It would make too much noise.

My skin twitched in nervousness as the door creaked open enough for me to slip through. I looked back at Splinter. His ears twitched, he shifted slightly but then fell back into slumber. I let my breath out. One obstacle out of the way.

Once I scooted to the other side of the door, I gasped again as a wave of dizziness swept over me once more. I never remembered this place being so BIG! It was immense! Almost too much to take in. It was covered in furniture that actually looked comfortable. At Bishop's everything seemed to be made of some sort of metal, even the staff's stuff. TV's glared brightly, showing their salt-and-pepper screens in complete silence. Passed out in front of them, on the worn out couch was the one in red. He, too, like Splinter, looked worse for wear. In a small armchair was Leonardo, a book open in his lap as he slept an exhausted slumber. Even from here I could detect the darkness under his eyes. Another portion of the place seemed to be crammed with technological equipment. Naturally I cringed from this, remembering all to often how I had been the subject of such equipment. Donatello was passed out in a precarious position on the chair, medical textbooks spread all about him.

As I viewed the scene in puzzlement and more than a little bit of fear, Al stepped beside me. _Looks as though they've stayed up, waiting for you to awake. _He fixed me with a look. _You know you've been out for several days due to your concussion. They probably wanted to be sure you were fit before they turned you in again. Come, let's go...unless you wish to listen to my previous offer to kill them? It would be easier while they slumber, you know..._

I shook my head, trying to ignore the anger that flashed on Al's face. I couldn't do it. If they come near me I'll defend myself, but I couldn't see killing them. Despite how much Al has told me of their betrayal, I was weak enough that my morals didn't stand for it.

Slinking by him, I avoided looking at Al's face for fear of his disappointment. I suppose that he resigned himself to my mindset and began drilling me.

_So what are we going to do when we get out?_

"Kill Bishop," I whispered, suddenly grinning at the thought. "Slowly and painfully."

He nodded happily. _Right. Soon we will bathe in his blood and live together forever, free from him forever._

It was surprisingly easy to find the door. Then again, there was no real reason to hide it from inside. With Al whispering into my ear I felt energized, alive. Absently I ripped off the guaze wrapping my head, reveling on the cool air caressing my skin. With satisfaction I reached for the door leading to my freedom.

I must've grown lazy. I should've heard it coming.

Just as my fingers touched the steel, the door opened on its own. Voices accosted my ears even as a young red haired woman and an enormous man blocked my way to freedom. Any logical part of me would've demanded that I dispatch them immediately, leave their bodies to slow down the others and make my way to sweet freedom. Apparently I wasn't thinking logically.

The woman's eyes grew wide and instantly brimmed with tears. "MIKEY!"

God! Could she be any louder! My fight-or-flight instinct kicked into high gear, shutting off everything else. With a snarl I kicked her in the chest, sending her colliding into the man behind her. He caught her easily and swept into the room. I was already sprinting in the opposite direction, my heart thudding hard against my chest. I could hear answering voices to her cry and cursed her. She had waken up the others! The man was yelling loudly now, I didn't pay attention to what he was saying. I had to get out of here!

Again, Al was instantly at my side. _Stop this foolishness! Kill them and be done with it!_

I shook my head. "NO!"

Suddenly one of them was before me, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. I froze in place, every muscle taut, eyes flitting about wildly. Somehow I could not bring myself to move even as my body and Al both screamed it. Raphael's posture wasn't the least bit threatening, he held his hands in a welcoming position, his face etched with worry and tension.

_Either run or kill him! He is the enemy! Stop this foolishness and come to your senses._

"No..." I shook my head and backed up a step. The Lair was completely silent as I realized that everyone was staring at us, waiting to see what we do. My heart did an extra flip at the thought of it. I had an audience during my surgeries too...

_Look! You see! He's armed while you have nothing! What do you call that!_

My eyes flitted to the wicked-looking sai tucked into his belt, ready at an instant's notice to be put into deadly use. I looked at his face, at his sai, then his face again. He looked at the source of my attention and sucked in a breath as his face took on an expression I couldn't begin to describe.

"No, Mikey! I'm not gonna hurt ya! Please, baby bro! Please! Look, I'll even get rid of'em for you..." he grabbed his sai with both hands.

Panic seized through me as he grabbed them. Twisting my body in mid air with a suddeness that even surprised my audience, I delivered a roundhouse kick to his downturned head. His body smacked heavily against the wall even as I sprinted away, only to be met with the man...Casey. Snarling viciously, I only quickened my sprint as I sprang in the air.

Perhaps seeing my intent he met me part way. His attempts to hold me were feeble, pointless. Having trouble getting a deadly handhold because of his untrained flailing, I finally managed to grab onto the wrist and elbow of one arm and shove my knee hard into his unprotected forearm. He screamed as bone cracked beneath the enexpected blow, instantly letting me go.

Donatello jumped before me, shouting something I didn't listen to as he held his bostaf horizongal with both hands. Hopping lightly on my feet, I stepped onto the convenient bostaff and leapt into the air, intending to deliver a well placed blow to the nose. Instead he grabbed my ankle and tugged me out of the air. I flailed madly as I hit the ground, dragging him to the dirt with me. He hardly had time to look up at me as I kicked my other heel into his face. Making a loud, inarticulate sound he released my ankle.

Leonardo had a hold of my wrist almost the instant I got on my feet, his own body poised for nearly any attack. He would be more difficult. I assessed this in an instant, seeing an obvious opening right away. Baring my teeth, I chomped down hard on the big first knuckle of the thumb of his offending hand.

The pain, as I knew from experience, was instant. Unlike human hands, where I had taken off a total of two thumbs in one bite each, the turtle's knuckle was much thicker, much heavier chorded. I could take it off in time, but that's not something he was willing to grant.

His knee hitting my plastron knocked the breath out of me, but I still held on like a bulldog. The second blow in the same spot left me weak and shaking. Letting go of him, I licked the blood from my teeth as I shakily backed up against the wall. They were all around me. Closing in. Ready.

It was too much. "Please..." I whispered.

_I'm here, Michelangelo. I'm here, and I always will be._

Before I could say another word, the rat stepped before me, an odd look on his face. He said nothing at first, but his stare was piercing. I stood rooted to the spot as those eyes bore into me. My breath came in quick gasps and my knees trembled but still I couldn't of moved even if I tried. A strange feeling washed over me even as he took a step closer to me.

Behind him Leonardo, worry etched on his face, reached for him, but with one hand Splinter silenced him and simply stood there, staring. There wasn't a trace of malice or ill intent in those intense brown eyes. I couldn't help but stare back, a wild look in my own eyes. "Michelangelo..." He said softly.

It rankled me to hear my name uttered by someone other than Al, after so much time had passed. At my prison it was either one dergatory name or another, but never my own name. I bared my teeth at him and hissed deep in my throat. The turtles in the background shifted uncomfortably at the sound. Something that had struck fear into several men didn't even make the old rat twitch a whisker. The feeling over me became deeper, more intense. It was like warm water, as if I was immersed.

I realized that I was beginning to relax and tried to will myself to move from his stare. I could hear Al suddenly scream in my ear.

_What are you doing! It's an old rat! Kill it! You can kill it with one kick, break its neck! Watch its blood spill on the floor, just KILL IT and be FREE!_

Suddenly Splinter twitched and his eyes widened in shock. His eyes temporarily darted over to where Al was standing, before coming back to me. Al gasped in utter surprise and immediately disappeared from sight.

_Look at that! He's trying to get rid of me! Your only friend! Don't let him do that! Don't let me die! I love you Michelangelo, you know I do!_

Sure enough, I felt something in my mind. The look on the rat's eyes now held a new spark of determination. Suddenly something twisted painfully in the recesses of my brain. In wincing at the hot, stabbing pain, my gaze was finally broken. Sliding along the wall on trembling legs, I sought escape. My hand grabbed onto the first doorknob and yanked it open. I slipped into the room and slammed the door.

Arcane laughter bubbled in my throat when I realized I was once again in the room of the old me. Frustrated energy that I couldn't quite place coarsed through my veins as the scene behind me was temorarily forgotten. I whipped around to see the Silver Sentry poster, the heroic figure smiling gallantly at me. With a snarl I ripped it from its tacks, turning it into confetti. I attacked every poster in such a fashion, the smiling, happy figures lying about some world full of nice things making me nauseous. Finally I tore into the comic books. Getting angrier and angrier at each mythic tale and heroic deed told within the pages, I flung them about the room, ripping out pages and crumpling up the paper. I knocked over the stacks of DVD's and games, kicking them about the room.

Then finally running into the closet and slamming the door, welcoming the familiar darkness. There I simply crouched, head between my legs, hands on my head, rocking on my heels. I whimpered and cried, sobbed and dug my fingernails into my skin until they welled with blood. This couldn't be happening, it was all happening so perfect! Why was this happening!

I could hear the voices plain as day outside the doors.

"Casey's arm's broken. I need to take him to the hospital. Are you guys alright? Can I get you anything?" She was crying, near hysterics.

_All you tried to do was peacefully leave and they had to attack you in such a fashion. You didn't even follow my advice to kill them and still they imprison you like some sort of animal!_

"It's alright, April. We'll be fine. I got all the supplied to treat our injuries right here. First your thumb, Leo. We don't want you to loose function of it. Then of course we got to make sure I don't bleed into my sinuses, maybe something to clear them from any body debris. Raph'll be alright, though. I just have to..." his voice was shaking. He was talking so fast. He was trying to distract himself with tasks, he didn't want to pay attention to the situation or me.

_And that rat! That beast! He tried to separate us, did you know that? I can feel a chink in your impressive mental armour. If you must kill anyone, he should be the first! His body may be weak, but his mind is strong. We need to silence it!_

Something crashed, making me jump. "What the F#K was THAT! What happened to him!" (crash) "Man, let's just cut the crap and kill that sonofabitch Bishop, that would be as good a cure as any! I know it'd make me feel better! Did you see him? He was like a f#king ANIMAL! What happened to him!" His voice cracked. "I-I just want my baby brother back! I-(sob)-I want him back..."

_THEY ALL NEED TO DIE!_

"We need to help him, but not like that. His spirit and mind is more broken than his body, even with the stories those scars tell. Let's just give him space..."

_SLIT THIER THROATS AND LET THEIR BLOOD PUMP OUT IN ARCS! WATCH THE LIGHT FADE FROM THEIR EYES! LET THEM DIE SO THAT YOU MAY LIVE!_

"Yes, you are correct Leonardo, but he needs something else as well. There is an evil in him, lurking beside him like a spiritual shadow. He must learn to defeat this beast, though ultimately he must do it alone, we must help him. We must help him be Michelangelo once more."

_THEY WANT YOU BACK, BUT THEY CAN'T UNDERSTAND! THEY CAN'T EVER HAVE YOU AGAIN! YOU ARE MINE! YOU ARE MINE AND ALWAYS WILL BE! ANYONE WHO STANDS IN THE WAY WILL BE SENTENCING THEMSELVES TO DEATH!_

A/N: Hope the chapter was enjoyable for you. Leave a review if you can, even if it's just a few words telling me if you liked it or not. I also love ramblers, so don't worry about writing too much, either!

Toodles!


	4. Coming Out of the Closet

Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles

A/N: Normally I would post a chapter of my zombie story at this time, but the reader response to this fic was so overwhelming and inspiring that I couldn't help but have it skip its turn and get posted once more! I just loved what you guys said about it! This one won't have nearly as much action as the previous two chapters, I hope that I don't dissappoint!

Chapter 4

Coming Out of the Closet

* * *

What you know and what the truth is, sometimes the difference can be anything between a fine line to a wide chasm. I thought I knew, I thought myself knowledgeable. And in a way, I was.

For several years I knew the truth of pain, torture, confinement and desolate lonliness. During these hard, brutal times a friend came to me from the world of the spirits, truly his companionship and support was heavenly, yet frightening. I cried at first. Cried for myself. Cried for the pain. Cried for my family not rescuing me. He laughed harshly and asked me how long I was there. I could not say. I had never seen the sky, the sun, the moon since my confinement. He asked me where my family was, again I could not say. He asked me why there was not even any attempts being made at rescue. Again, I could not say.

Speaking these words aloud was nearly the most painful part of those early days. I was admitting my desolation. Admitting my frustration, anger and pain. I was admitting, in a way, my family's possible abandonment. I shuddered when he first whispered the idea into my ear. I shuddered even as tears flowed unchecked down my cheeks. No, it could not be so, it could not be true... But why haven't they come to rescue me?

I couldn't say.

Was there any reason why this idea, this horrible thought could not be true? Any shred of physical evidence supporting their love and continued effort to bring me back home?

Perhaps because of the trembling loss and pain, because of the cold nights and dark days, because of Bishop's wicked laughter and cruel taunts, because of the wild look creeping into my eyes that made the guards wary and fearful...

I couldn't say.

That admission seemed to set me free. It made so much sense. My new friend understood me so well. With this wellspring released, I could begin to fit the mold of my new life, so long as he was there beside me. We were content.

Then everything changed.

Here I am, prisoner in a home I hardly recognize, yet is vaguely familiar. Brothers that I haven't seen in years are stepping about me warily, wishing to do something to me but obviously too fearful to approach. It reminds me of some of the guards when they tried to detain me on my bad days, they knew me and were afraid. The only one who is not is the rat, Spinter. He is calm, so still I would've thought him dead but for the piercing stare that seemed to go right into my soul. My friend hated him, he hated all of them. He wished their blood to rain down upon us. He was my friend, my only friend. What could I do but to listen to him?

Yet at the same time they beckon somehow. Despite their injustice, there's something pure about them that is drawing me. But how could I possibly be drawn to family that had abandoned me to years of brutal torture and confinement at the hands of our enemy?

I couldn't say.

* * *

I woke up groggily, my head pounding unexpectedly. Then I remembered the escape, the truck, my family...I groaned silently. A deep sense of the unkown seeped its cold fingers deep into my gut. At least at Bishop's I knew what was expected, it was routine, it was monotonous. The same thing, the same feeling, the same sensations day after day after day after day after day. I stretched languidly, temporarily surprised as my feet touched the wall of the closet. I shifted my hands, delighted to have full sensation in them. Scarves are better than chains. I looked up, proud at my creation. The previous night I couldn't fall asleep with my hands at my sides, they felt leaden, heavy and sluggish. Out of exhausted desperation for rest and some time away from this place I fashioned a scarf to drape on the closet rung with two loops to fit my hands through. It was only with my hands comfortably suspended above my head that I was able to sleep.

Now slipping my hands free in a new and slightly uncomfortable feeling of freedom I stretched fully as much as the closet would allow. Then I scooted further in my nest of clothing that consisted mainly of baggy pants, shirts, and plenty of long coats. The smells brought memories that nipped at the sidelines of my mind, yet was unable to grasp. It was unfamiliar yet exhilarating.

_What do you think you're doing, prisoner?_

I started, surprised at myself. Normally I alone can hear him coming. I stared at his face even through the darkness in the closet. He was upset. Even as I thought about it something suddenly throbbed in my head. I recognized it instantly. That place in my mind...Splinter...

Al's eyes flashed angrily. _You feel that? That is the evil that the hairy one brought upon us. The hairy one that is in charge of the 'family' keeping you prisoner in this filth._

Shuddering, I burrowed deeper into the oversized clothes. He was right. He was always right. It did feel different, it made me feel a bit more...cold. Yanking the last few coats from the hanger I piled them on me until I was barely peeking out of the mass. The sensation was still thrilling, the feel of something soft on my dead skin. But the cold was still there, in me. I shook, surprised at the thoughts in my head even as I voiced them. "I don't know, these aren't filthy but clean, these are soft..."

Suddenly Al was in my face, rage contorting his features. I shook and sobbed, struggling to burrow myself deeper in the clothes but I knew that he was still there. His words cut through me like a knife and I clutched my head as though trying to stop the onslaught.

_Soft? SOFT!! If it wasn't for them you never would've known a world WITHOUT softness! It was because of them that you were captured! Are you so stupid that you would forget that so easily simply because you have some clothing that belongs to you anyway? Would you forget everything that we strived for? What about the slaying of Bishop? Do you think that they will allow you to leave and slay their master? How could you THINK that! They will keep you in this 'home' until their master comes to fetch you, then the torture will be laid upon you tenfold until he decides to end your life as he would that of a mere insect! Do you want that, Michelangelo? DO YOU?!_

I sobbed frantically into the clothing, my measly shelter inside a closet as my punishment was laid upon me. Through the fabrics I bit at my arms, my hands, my fingers, desperately trying to find some source of pain to distract me from this onslaught. Al continued his relentless tirade, screaming at me with words that seemed to cut me deeper than any of Bishop's knives, bouncing off the walls. Kicking violently I bounced myself off the walls of the closet, crying out joyously each time I could feel a fresh bruise well deep inside me. But the words continued. Finally, energy spent, I collapsed in a trembling heap beneath a disheveled nest of clothing, my eyes running dry of tears and my lungs screaming at my strangled sobs. I screamed "I'm sorry, Al! I'm sorry! Please! Please! Don't leave! Please! Whatever you say! Please!"

I begged, I pleaded, and begged some more. I begged until my voice was hoarse. Suddenly the air was silent. My eyes raw, my breathing ragged and my body hurting in countless places I looked around, confused and scared. When I felt a touch on my shoulder I jumped so quickly that I immediatly slipped and knocked myself to the ground. I looked up with wide eyes to see Al looming over me. Cringing, I simply waited.

When he spoke his voice was soft, his expression kind. _It's okay, Michelangelo. I'm sorry too, but you made me do it, I couldn't help it. What you were saying would've been the start of letting them and Bishop win, it would've helped with what that filthy rat started in making us drift apart. Please understand that I couldn't let that happen. I simply love you too much. That is my biggest fault, my love for you. I fear for you, so I was simply trying to see the danger in places where they seemed to have blinded you. After all, you are mine and always will be, you know that. I was the only one to look out for you when no one else would, not even this so called family of yours. I only want what is best for you, Michelangelo. I love you._

My eyes wide, I nodded. Of course! It made so much sense! He was right, he was always right. He was by my side for years through my worst times, why would he leave now? He was only looking out for me, I made him get mad. That was my fault, I was stupid. I shook my head, gritting my teeth slightly at the wave of dizzines that followed the movement. I had to listen to him, follow his lead. He would get me out of this.

It was only then that I hear the other voices crying out in alarm.

"What's wrong with him? What happened?"

"Raph, did you hear that? Get away from there!"

"Who was he talking to?"

"Come on, Raph, we don't want him to hurt you!"

"What was he doing to make so much noise?"

"Alright Raph, then I'm coming with you-" _click_

That simple sound was followed by much shouting and pounding, mostly from the blue clad one until the others pulled him away. Even after that scuffling continued until silence finally prevailed.

The words were answered by an eerie silence. My heartbeat quickened against my chest. They seemed to accept the silence, thier voices tired from an obviously old argument. A mysterious scent that was also vaguely familiar wafted to my nostrils. I sniffed at the enticing scent, but held myself in check. I sat there, motionless, staring at the closet door even as the seconds ticked by into minutes, and the minutes into hours. Al lounged with me, coming and going as he so fantastically does, offering casual conversation or comfortable silence. He seemed unwilling to push me any more, something which I was grateful for. I knew that I could not resist should he try me again. For some reason the thought seemed to remind me of the coldness within my brain.

Finally, after all shuffling and movement stopped outside the walls of my closet, I peeked out...only to shut the door immediately afterwards.

The red one, Raphael, was sitting by my demolished bed, his elbows resting on his bent knees. Minutes ticked by until I was brave enough to peek out once more, my eye barely visible through the crack in the door. I saw his eyes staring straight into mine. With a sudden, sharp gasp I slammed the door once more. Trembling, I looked about the small closet and scrambled in tiny circles for no reason other than to move. This alone, so unfamiliar to the squirming I was forced to put up with in the shackles, still didn't put me at ease. Finally I dove into my nest of clothes once more, shuddering underneath the heavy warmth, my eyes wide open and staring. There was no sign of movement in the dead, prevailing silence. Not even a shuffle. He wasn't pursuing me?

Al wasn't around, he was off doing his fantastic things. I was alone. I shook my head. Of course he'd leave right now, Michelangelo! Normally you'd be asleep by now! Still I waited, how much time passed I couldn't tell. But of course this was nothing new. When I peeked out once more, he was still there. I nearly slammed the door again until I noticed his head knocked back on the bedpost. I stared for a moment when suddenly a loud, rancous snore startled me. My heart thudding, I looked around for the source when it happened again. Jumping again despite myself, I stared at the other turtle as realization slowly dawned on me.

He was alseep!

Then I could see the source of the delicious odor. A square box rested by his side, the lid partially open. Through it I could glimpse a food item that I haven't seen for some time, yet even through my fogged mind I could name it. Pizza.

I pushed the door open slightly, not even realizing that I was doing so. All I knew was that the sight of the food reminded me that I hadn't eaten for several days. The open floor, as before, seemed ominous and foreboding. But the pizza beckoned. So gingerly I made my way across the space, for the first time noticing my muscles, trembling with weakness, and my stomach, which growled so loudly I feared that it wake him up. I shook my head. Why all this fuss over some food? I've gone up to a week and a half without the stuff before and did just fine...well...sort of. Either way, I knew my limits of starvation very well from experience and knew that I could still easily go a few days. Easy.

Yet my limbs moved on their own. Even as I reached the source of my movement, I paused to stare at the turtle sitting beside it. My eyes devoured him, for the first time taking the time to take in my supposed brother. He was so different from Al, somehow softer yet harsher all at once. He was much younger. Despite the occasional scar his skin seemed smooth compared to mine. I wonder how I looked? I touched my own cheek, feeling the rough bumbiness of the scars laying on top of one another. Did his feel like that?I don't even know why I dared myself to ask. Hesitantly I looked around, as though expecting an audience to this big thing. Of course there was none and I forced myself to take a steadying breath. I've done worse things, more brave, horrid, bloody things before, right? Surely I could do this...I reached out gingerly, then touched my calloused fingertips to his cheek.

Suddenly he jerked in his sleep, his eyes flying open. Panic seized my body and, snatching the pizza box, I tore across the room in two bounds and slammed the closet door behind me with a loud bang. I leaned against the door, my heart thudding hard against my plastron, waiting for him to come roaring through the door and reclaim his prize. Surely he would come, furious at me stealing his food, a mere prisoner at that. Surely his punishment would be horrid. Time passed, but he didn't come. Fear still causing a tremor in my legs, I peeked out. Though he hadn't moved from his position, he was staring straight at me. With a cry I slammed the door.

Yet still he didn't pursue.

I stayed like that for some time, marveling how he hadn't eaten a single slice of the food and finally gobbling down the pizza and then struggling not to vomit it upon the floor. The food, rich in calories, cheese, veggies and bread was like nothing of what I'd eaten while under Bishop's thumb. My diet then had consisted of stale scraps, rotten bites, and pieces so devoid of actual nutritional value that it was probably the occasional IV while I had procedures that kept my body fueled. Despite managing to keep it down, the stuff seemed to weigh me down as if I'd swallowed a bowling ball. I felt sick, but was determined to stick through it. When Al returned he was both surprised and upset. Surprised at my state and upset that I didn't use the opportunity to break his neck. For the first time in a long time, I was unable to respond in any kind and nor did I care to, so concentrated was I on keeping this vital sustenence within my body. Though I suffered many things while being Bishop's prisoner, sickness was not one of those things that I experienced often. But I needed fuel, I needed it and I knew that I did. I couldn't afford to lose it. So I simply slipped my hands through the nooses in my scarf and fell asleep.

The sickness only effected me seriously for about a day, I'd suppose. During that time I simply slept, with my hands secure above my head or somehow learned to doze while buried in my nest. Al was fretful during this time, talking yet I wasn't quite sure at times what he was saying. Whenever I felt like I was able, I'd peek out of the door and glimpse the turtle who was watching me. And watching me he always did. Never did he say a word, never did he make a sudden movement or sound. In fact, other than to get food and dispose of his body waste he hardly moved at all, simply sat at his 'post' and watched. Never wearing belt, bandana, sai or even pads. During the night I snuck out again, dragging the food...this time some simple, yet fresh, bread, cheese, unseasoned meat, as well as some fruit and broth. This seemed to settle on my stomach better than the pizza did and by the third day I was feeling slightly better.

We developed something of a routine as the days passed. He would always be there, the food was always there, and I always snuck out once I was sure he was asleep to get at it. I'm not sure how long we kept this up, I had ceased counting days long ago, but I fell into a somewhat comfortable routine. I was even getting used to the presence of the red one, though I never exited my closet when I even suspected that he was awake. Al was the only one who seemed uncomfortable. He claimed that this was simply another type of prison, then berated me each time I failed to snap the turtle's neck in his sleep. I paid him his proper respect, wallowed when it was needed, but never gave him cause to punish me again. Never did I speak against him, never did I go against his ideals. Everytime he pointed to the fact that the turtle was still breathing, I blamed my stupidity. After all, it was only true. I knew that all it would've taken was a simple grab, twist, snap and his neck would be broken and I would be free. Yet I had not even tried the door yet, though I had guessed that the _click_ was the sound of Raphael locking it behind him.

That is one thing that I could not wrap my brain around. Why lock himself into a room with me? I had already attacked him twice, and now he was putting himself into a position where he surely knew that he was vulnerable to a third attack. Perhaps his final one. What possesed him to take such risks? I simply didn't understand, though the idea for some reason was nibbling at the back of my brain. That the reasoning behind it was deeper than simple, superficial attack.

After an unknown number of days, something happened.

With almost nonchalance born of monotony, I crept out of the closet and swiftly passed the space to where the food was set close beside him. Al was gone, as always when I made these forays. I didn't want him encouraging me to kill this turtle, for some reason. I knew that if he was here, that's exactly what he'd do.

It was as I touched the loaf of fresh bread that I looked up and saw Raphael staring straight at me.

My first instinct was to snatch the food, perhaps deliver him a decisive blow, then retreat to my closet. But for some reason I didn't. I simply crouched there, rooted to the spot even as he delivered his evil gaze upon me.

But it didn't hurt. I didn't burst into flames. He didn't attack. He didnt' taunt. He didn't sneer. All of the things that Al told me would happen...didn't happen. He simply stared at me with wide...caring?...eyes.

I had never had time to study those eyes, and for some reason I did so in earnest now. They were rich, dark pools...they seemed to go on forever. There was something inviting about them, something warm. Was it the invitation to evil, as Al had proclaimed? Strangely enough, I simply couldn't tell.

He never moved, merely quivered slightly as though afraid the slightest movement might get an explosive reaction from me...not far off from the truth, in fact. He simply sat rooted to the spot as I was. Then he slowly picked up a piece of chicken and handed it to me gently. I took it with a quivering hand. My heart was thumping hard against my chest, demanding some sort of immediate action yet I could provide none. Finally my muscles, trembling from fear, screamed out at me and I plopped on my bottom, no more than a foot and a half from one of my 'enemies.' Through mechanical movement I brought the chicken to my mouth and bit down on it, not even tasting the meat. I tore my eyes away from his, fearing that they would mesmerize me like that of a serpent, and stared at the floor as I ate the food, unnmoving. He made no move towards me, made no sound, something for which I was grateful. Even I could not be sure of my reaction if he did. I simply ate the meal, each piece being handed to me by this familiar stranger, and washed it down with milk.

My mind was screaming the entire time. Why do I not move? I am betraying Al right now as sure as I have ever betrayed him. I am eating with the enemy. Tears coarsed down my cheeks even as I ate, the knot in my throat making it difficult to swallow the food. My soul seemed torn in two places. I had never felt so lost and confused.

He seemed greatly effected by my tears, wanting to comfort me in some way but thankfully resisting, instead adding the moment with tears of his own. He choked, struggled not to make a sound but could not suppress the soft sobs and hiccups. His shoulders wracked violently with them, his chest heaved. He reached for me halfway, yet dropped his hand.

On a spontaneous impulse, I gingerly reached out my own hand and placed it on top of his.

At this he looked ready to break down.

My brain was reeling. I was going against everything that Al ever taught me. I thought about this on the slow trek back to the closet, though I didn't slam the door behind me...I didn't even shut it all the way. This silent exchange...surely it was innocent... Yet even as I feared Al's reaction, a strange feeling was starting inside of me. I couldn't name it, couldn't place it, but it was there nonetheless.

Was I betraying my only friend? Or was I befriending the enemy, or a long lost, loving family?

I couldn't say.

* * *

A/N: Hope it wasn't too boring for ya! Yeah, I know I kinda favored Raph in that chapter but I always felt that he had the closest connection with Mikey, so I thought that it suited. Please let me know what you think, this story lives and dies by the thoughts of the glorious readers!

Toodles!


	5. Fear

Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles

A/N: Yes! This is indeed a long time posting! Lets just say that I literally drove across the country from Cali to North Carolina, got moving plans ready, found a new place to live, started my college classes, and then some! Yep! I've been busy! Then I got the writing bug for the first time in a long time and threw this all down in one day! You can thank Damgel for some much needed inspiration and ideas!

Chapter 5

Fear

* * *

Fear is something to be feared. Fear comes in many varieties, many faces, many places and many situations.

Fear was part of my daily life for years. At first it was nearly incapacitating. I fought wildly like the caged animal I was, and all I recieved for it was severe beatings. This was recieved each time I acted aggressively, until I even began to fear my own actions. I had always let my fear effect me more than my brothers all my life, here it caught up to me. I would shake, tremble, convulse, until finally I blacked out from it. I found the trigger, the 'switch' that could effectively 'turn me off' when my situation became too much to handle. I employed this often when I discovered this gift. I would be removed from what was happening, I would be present but detatched. The fear was still ever present, but it almost seemed as though it was happening to someone else. My body would be manipulated, all privacies gone, all illusions of freedom vanished, but I could cope. At least I could cope.

Then when I met Al he showed me a way through the fear, different ways of dealing. I was of course trained in ninja stealth, in their ways, but never had I employed them in such ways. I remember the first time when, with Al's encouragement, I put it into action. Faking being passed out; they never suspected. My arms were in shackles, but my feet came into employ as I deftly grasped their heads with my toes, the curve of their skulls nestled in the pocket of my arch. I still remember the sound of their necks cracking. One of my first kills done in such a way. I knew I couldn't escape at that time, I knew that I would be punished for it, but I also knew that I couldn't allow fear to incapacitate me any more. I could take action. I could take power. I could make them fear me.

There are different kinds of fear. That was the fear of death, the fear of injury, and the fear of imprisonment. Many forget that there are other types. There is fear of uncertainty, fear of being caught off ballance, fear of the old and fear of the new.

As of now my future is uncertain, I am in unfamiliar territory, my family from the past is surrounding me, familiar yet entirely new. I don't know what to do.

I don't ever remember such fear.

TMNTTMNTTMNTTMNTTMNTTMNTTMNTTMNTTMNTTMNTTMNT

The days in the closet somehow began to get lonlier than when I was in my cell. It came as a surprise to me when I realized that what I was missing was the interaction.

True, I was chained to the wall the entire time in the cell, but though I might be left for a week at a time there, normally that was it. Most of the time I was removed and something was done to me or I was put somewhere else for a moment. I might get locked in the hamster cage for a day, I'd go through a procedure, something. Here, I was simply in a closet with Al with a brother I hardly recognized sitting outside constantly. There was no stimulation, no action, nothing happening, nothing interesting. No goal to make it through a painful procedure, no plotting to kill another guard, nothing.

Not for Al's lack of trying, of course. But his urgings were always the same. Kill the 'family' and escape. Watch their blood pour out. Paint the floor with their entrails. End their lives as brutally as you've lived yours.

But I couldn't.

I had several reasons for this. For one, despite the increasing feeling of boredom and edgyness, I was again getting comfortable, complacent. Yes, there was a lack of stimulation, but for the first time I was without pain. It was odd at first, I felt lonesome as though a friend was missing and was disturbed when I realized what that 'friend' was. Al laughed at me, comparing my complacency with the feeling I was getting in my cell. I couldn't help but agree at the comparison.

He taunted me, going on about how fragile the body's structures truly were, insinuating both the ease in which I could kill them and they could kill me. I dared to argue the fact, pointing out that I knew they were highly trained in martial arts, training even as I was chained to a wall. I might be very fit, but nowhere as strong as them. They never knew days of pure hunger or near starvation, they never put their bodies through the stress of conscious surgeries or were forced to stay in a single position for days at a time. I might be good, they might hold back because they didn't want to hurt me, but they would surely win in the end.

That last sentence not only stunned me but sent Al into a fury. Even as I huddled at his feet, trembling beneath his furious onslaught, my mind was still reeling over what I had spoken aloud. They were holding back because of me? But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wasn't fantasy. All the fights, scuffles and violence that we'd participated in, they were holding back a great deal. Because of me. They were protecting themselves, yes, but even made things more difficult for themselves in trying to preserve me. The revelation astounded me and I couldn't get my mind off of it. Did they truly care?

As usual after I get punished, Al left for a while, leaving me to pace my closet. I looked around, my nose twitching as I looked at the bucket in the corner. In it was my piss and shit that usually scattered the floor of my cell. Discovering a bucket of plastic soldiers, I immediately put the actual bucket to practical use, causing an uproar the first time it filled and I pitched the contents into the room during the night. Though it wasn't full, for some reason the familiar odor was bothering me, perhaps linking itself to the unexplained claustraphobia that I had been feeling along with the terrible doubt drifting through my mind. Was what I believed about my brothers...untrue?

On impulse I gently pushed the door open and slipped out before my courage failed me.

For some reason, the fact that there wasn't a soul in the room surprised me. According to the clock, it was midday. Have I ever been out of the closet at any time other than the dead of night? I didn't think so. But the fact that Raphael was gone...I shook my head. Of course he wouldn't stay here 24/7! He has to do his business too, and I'm sure he wouldn't use a bucket. He still socializes with the others, and he's probably taken advantage of my only coming out at night and assumed I wouldn't do it any other time. Plus he's gotta stretch his legs I suppose. I flexed my own legs at the thought, suddenly craving the sensation. I looked around the darkened room. The only light source was a dim ray of light peeking from under the door. Suddenly smiling I shifted my wieght to the balls of my feet and executed a front flip, nearly crasing into my bed in the process. But for all the stumbling around, I made relatively little noise.

I enjoyed myself in this fashion for a bit, shifting around the cleaned up litter of destroyed action heroes and basically bouncing off the walls as silently as possible. Finally spent, tired from the exertion after countless weeks of inactivity in the closet, I plopped on the floor, munching some leftover wheat bread left by the bed. It was then that I heard the voices.

They were coming from the other side of the door and I instantly recognized them as my brothers. What got my attention, however, was when they mentioned Bishop's name.

"I'm getting tired of this. This is all Bishop's fault. I say we cut his f#king head off and show Mikey that he has nothing more to fear."

"Raph, we've been through this! I want to get at Bishop just as much as you do, but we can't just go about decapitating high security government officials! Things require a bit of finesse sometimes. That's something you have to learn, finesse and patience."

"Shut up. Just shut the f#k up, Leo! You don't know shit! I'm patient. I'm more patient than you bother giving me credit for. I'm the one who spends night after night in Mikey's room, hoping he'll open up. And he has, Leo! He has! We haven't spoken much, but he's come out when he knows that I'm awake, he sits with me, eats with me...if you just take the time out of your busy schedule to look at him...I just don't want to see him like this anymore!"

"Neither do I, Raph, but..."

"But what? Why sit around here on our asses all day and witness how messed up Mikey is because of Bishop? Do you feel good that that scumbag walking around freely with government funding by his side? Does it please you to know that he mutilated our baby brother like he did?"

"Shut up!"

"Think of the scars on him, Leo! Think of outgoing Mikey purposely locking himself in a closet! Think of him cringing at the sight of us! Think of-"

I started at the sound of a loud crash, but stayed rooted to the spot. Hesitantly, heart pounding at my chest, I leaned forward and opened the door slightly. Leo was grappling with Raph and had him laid out on a table. The red turtle growled furiously at his brother and kicked him back into the kitchen counter. Dishes on a drying rack rattled and crashed to the floor. I winced at the sight of the shiny silverware clattering on the worn tile, but was quickly distracted when Donatello burst out of a door on the other side of the space, probably attracted by all the noise. Sprinting over to his brothers, he struggled to pull them apart and ended up getting hit himself. The other two hardly seemed aware of the intrusion, so intent were they upon one another.

I watched the entire scene with a strange fascination, my eyes becoming wider and wider as my brain struggled to sort through all of it. The fighting was an obvious part, violence. I was intimately familiar with it. But though they obviously felt like pummeling each other, I could tell they were holding back if not subconsciously, along with the remnants of a festering tension between them. But there seemed a purpose, a reason to this grappling. Finally, a trickle of understanding filtered into my head. They were fighting over...me. Me!

Not in a negative way, just different. Differences of opinion. I remembered their previous conversation leading to this scuffle, along with the grunted and growled words as they knocked each other about. I could practically taste their hate for Bishop, their...caring?...for me. As soon as the realization took its time to settle in I was practically floored. My body trembled and shivered with joyous release of some unknown ball, some harsh blockage...Was it true? Did they care for me? They weren't my enemy?

Blinking, I realized that I was no longer behind the door, but balanced on the rail outside my room. Feeling the cool metal bar balanced on the ball of my feet, I smiled and rocked slightly, enjoying the scene below on the ground floor. The purple one was really getting into it now, baring his teeth slightly as he tangled himself into the fray, getting nearly as pummeled as the other two yet still struggling to separate them at the same time. Such caring, even in the heat of violence...My heart skipped excitedly as I gazed on them, my muscles forgot my previous exertion and tingled with energy.

I knew what it was, I wanted in.

Even as I slowly climbed from the railing, dangled myself from the metal and dropped lightly to the floor below my mind was filled with images from the past that I had either forgotten or misplaced. My brothers and I sparring, chasing each other, skateboarding in the sewer pipes, them wrestling me to the ground after I pulled a prank on them...could I possibly do that again, being how I am? My lips parted in a way that could be called a smile as I turned around to creep closer, my muscles practically spasming with energy. I was seeing them through a haze, could I do it?

Then my reverie was shattered as an old rat stepped into view. With a sharp rapp of his staff the young turtles instantly separated, two with bloody noses and all looking sheepish, yet with still pent up emotions. Splinter looked at each of them in turn, his gaze stern. "What is the meaning of this?"

They hesitated to speak up at first and stood there staring at the floor, shifting their weight from one foot to the other. Finally Raphael broke the tension. "Master Splinter I...I just don't see how we can sit here with Mikey...How can we let Bishop get away with...Why don't we do something!"

He didn't speak right away either, instead stared off into space and as he visibly collected his thoughts. Then, with a heavy sigh, he spoke. "My sons, we cannot simply rush into things such as this. We must take things one at a time. Unless something happens to change our priorities, we must act with what is most important first, which is the health of Michelangelo. He may have healed in body, but he is far from healing in spirit. He needs our full attention until he opens up to us enough to help us know what must be done for him. If that something is," he nodded at Raphael, "allowing him to confront Bishop, dangerous as it is I believe we would be willing to do that for him." All heads nodded in unison, sad but attentive looks etched on their faces. "Of course, that will be the last resort, as the confrontation will likely end in violence, and solving violence with violence inevitably leads to more. Michelangelo has had enough of that to last a lifetime."

I simply stared as the brothers departed to get cleaned up for their noon meal, not having budged an inch from my position in the shadows. Sill as a stone, my mind whirled about me. Forgotten was my quest to join in the fight. Forgotten was my excitement and my energy. I felt as though I sat in a warm pool, gentle ripples and currents stroking my skin making pins and needles prickling the surface. That pain in my skull, the thread connecting Al with me seemed to pull at me almost as though I were pulling a weapon out of the flesh. I winced at the sensation, resisting the urge to hold my head. It wasn't there, was it?

The rat put it there, Splinter. Or did he? Al said he loosened it, like a connection, but Al was always right... Suddenly the pain got intense for a flashing instant, filling my sight with white. My teeth gnashed together as I managed to remain silent through the onslaught. No, he wasn't, I thought suddenly. He wasn't always right. He was wrong about my brothers, he was wrong about my family. They weren't my enemies, they didn't despise me, and by the hate in their beings at mentioning Bishop, they definetly didn't sell me to him. Why would he say that? I didn't know, but he was still my friend. I could forgive him of this, surely. I have done worse things than him on many occasions, and he has forgiven me. The least that I could do was the same. Maybe he could become friends with my family too.

The thought filled me with such bubbling warmth that I didn't notice the nagging pain in my skull. Instantly thoughts played through my head like a fantastical movie. Yes, they would be able to see him as I could, and we could all be friends. One big family. If they argue, I'll tell them about how he helped me, how he saved me. Surely they would understand!

"Michelangelo."

I started at the voice, finally knocking myself off my squat. Blinking, I looked up to see Splinter, still standing in the same spot alone in the kitchen as the others cleaned up. Did he speak to me?

"Michelangelo," his raspy voice whispered, "how long have you been there?" Finally he turned halfway to look at me, his movements guarded and slow. My mouth gaped but I didn't answer. Instead I scrambled to my feet and edged away with tiny, mincing steps. "You don't have to leave so soon, my son." he said in the same low, carefully controlled voice. Slowly he shuffled to the cupboard and got out a bowl and several cups. Were his hands shaking? "I don't believe that you've eaten lunch yet. We still have your favorite."

Thoroughly perplexed, I stilled my feet and wracked my brain. My favorite? I have a favorite? A favorite what? He took down a familiar looking can and though I didn't immediately recognize it, I slowly slinked forward, every leg shaking. He hurt me before, right? No, he just did something to me. But he could do it again...would he? Is that a bad thing? Damn, I'm confused. Maybe I should go back to my closet. I was safe in there. Here I'm exposed...

"Please sit down now, Michelangelo. I will heat your lunch for you."

For some reason, I felt compelled to obey his gentle, fatherly voice. Slowly I crossed the kitchen, staying as far away from him as possible. A chair was already pulled out, but when I got to it, I simply stared at it.

"Go ahead, Michelangelo. Sit down." His tone was gentle. The sound soothed the wracks of confusion and fear that was wracking my body enough to move.

Slowly I eased my rear onto the seat, but it had been so long since I sat like that with my feet dangling that it felt wrong, similar to my sleeping with my hands down. I pulled them up and hugged my knees, seeking any sort of comfortable closeness. I felt that this was wrong and stared at the rat wide eyed as he prepared the meal, wondering what punishment would befall me. I could beat him, surely. He was so old...yet the confident way in which he moved...suddenly I wasn't so sure.

When he turned in my direction I winced and hid my face in my knees. He stopped for a second at the movement, took a deep breath, and approached the table. But no punishing words or blows followed. Gingerly he placed a bowl, spoon, and cup of liquid before me as though I were a mouse about to scamper away. I remained frozen until he slowly sat down in the seat across from me. Careful to avoid eye contact, he got comfortable and seemed to relax slightly.

My heart thudded so hard against my plastron that I thought it would burst from my chest. What was I doing? Why not go back to my closet? Or better yet, why not leave? Then Al and I could live alone forever. But for whatever reason, I never budged. I flicked my eyes at Splinter. He quietly sipped his tea and his chicken soup with a shaking hand. Why was his hand shaking? Surely he wasn't that weak...I stared at him. Judging by how he acted...maybe the shaking was because of...me...

I jerked suddenly. He did the same soundlessly, nearly spilling his tea. He steadied himself as I slowly moved, afraid still that the movement would not be welcome. Cautiously I peered at what was in the bowl. It was tiny round balls and rings of pasta swimming in a tomato sauce. My eyes widened as I recognized it. Immediately what I wanted to do was grab the bowl and slurp the Spaghettio's down my throat, but that would mean bringing my other arm out of the security of my body. Unwilling to do so, I hesitantly picked up the spoon and scooped some into my mouth.

The taste brought back such a flood of memories that for a moment I forgot where I was and what had happened to me. Me as a child playing with my brothers, ninja lessons, bedtime stories... I was only vaugely aware of the hot wetness on my cheeks as tears coarsed down. Blinking, the images in my head cleared and the water flow stopped. I stared at the figure at the other side of the table and was surprised to find him staring back. The fur on his cheeks was visibly damp, the wet furr sticking up in odd places. Slowly I drew out my other arm and placed it on the table. Moving slightly, I made a move to lower my legs.

Then a clatter erased all thought of doing so. Startled, I immediately hid my mouth behind my knees and covered my head in both arms. Suddenly voices started talking all at once. I let out a tiny whimper. This was too much...my muscles quivered as the familiar adrenaline began to leak into my veins. This was too much. The voices were closer. I squeezed my head harder, my nails digging into the back of my neck. My heart thudded so hard that I thought it would rip through my ribcage. Hands trembling, I clenched my muscles. Fight or flight...fight or flight...fight or flight...Oh, Al, come back!

With a word from Master Splinter, however, they stopped immediately.

"Hush." The soft, yet authoratative voice commanded. "Please, sons, sit down and do not bother your brother." there was a pause. "You heard me, get your lunches and sit at the table like a family. In your usual spots, please. Yes, Leonardo, you to. No, Donatello, save the questions for a later time. Raphael...no."

There was a great shuffling of feet, some clattering of dishes, and finally the creaking of chairs settling. Some time passed with quiet corrections from Splinter every once and a while, there seemed to be peace.

My muscles slowly began to lose their quivering and my heart ceased thudding so hard. Gingerly I unclenched my hands, taking my torn fingernails from the flesh of my neck and finally peeked from behind my knees. The entire family was eating assorted lunches around the table, all making a visible effort not to do...something...yet all sneaking furtive glances in my direction.

We stayed like that until they were finished with their meal. They remained seated, as though afraid to leave the table. After a tense moment, Splinter spoke up. "Michelangelo, perhaps you should eat your meal so that we can clean your dish with that of the rest of the family.

I stared at everyone, grateful that they didn't simply stare at me as I knew they wanted to. Slowly I reached for the spoon. The Spaghettio's really were yummy...

_Michelangelo! What do you think you're doing!_

I started, jerking upright. Oh no! I've been discovered! Surely I can make him understand! "Al! I-"

_Enough of that! We'll deal with your 'family' after this. Did you make it all this way to lose all our senses! LISTEN!_

There it was, in the background, that voice...

Bishop. His voice. In this Lair!

_Yes, Bishop! Just like I told you! I told you! I told you, Michelangelo! Leave them! You are mine and always will be!_

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know. Kind of sedate. Hope you enjoyed it anyway, though. There will be more iteraction with Al next chapter, for those of you who like that character. Please, evereyone who reads this leave a review and let me know what you think, ramble to your hearts content or just leave a few words. Either way, they are some of the greatest inspiration!

Toodles!


	6. Friends and Enemies

Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles

A/N: Hello! Hopefully I'll be seeing the same faces as well as some new ones after my long absence. It is unusual for me, but as if packing, moving to a different state, unpacking, checking into a new command and being assigned to the biggest hospital that I've ever seen wasn't enough, I got into a car accident. Someone ran a red light (common in this area, or so I've been told) and hit me and my daughter, the cause of about half my absence. We're fine, though my new 08 isn't. Yup. Totaled. Get GAP insurance!

In any case, let's get back to the matter at hand, pumping out another chapter! I just want everyone to keep in mind that only Mikey can hear Al, he doesn't speak in his 'voice' like Golem in LOTR. Al is an imaginary friend, not a multiple personality (sometimes those get confused). Other than that, please enjoy!

Chapter 6

Friends and Enemies

Enemies can come in many shapes, forms and varieties. Some enemies can become your friends, and some friends can become your enemies. You can make either in an instant, and at times they can switch sides in an instant. It is when they switch sides that it hurts.

What is it exactly that makes an enemy an enemy and a friend a friend? Do they have to hurt you? Do they have to not believe what you believe? A friend is more varied, a friend, though is someone you lean on, someone you can trust. It is a truly painful thing when a friend becomes an enemy.

Whatever made me think that my family was my enemy? I already know it, Al. What caused him to convince me, how could I be swayed so resolutely? So strongly and readily? Since I met them again, they have been nothing but kind and exceedingly patient. They don't yell at me like all does, they don't call me names, I don't feel bad. But they weren't there when I needed them. They weren't there during those days and nights of pain and terror. Does that make them friends, or enemies?

Al has been my friend for nearly forever, I just didn't know it until I needed him. He comforted me when I needed it, he was there for me, helped me cope. That makes him a friend, right? But I found out that he was not always so truthful, he lied about my family; I think. And even though I deserve it, he yells at me sometimes, he yells mean things. And I feel bad.

That doesn't make him my enemy, does it?

* * *

Bishop's voice rang clear as day in my ears as I tore myself away from a startled group of turtles. Spaghettio's toppled off the table and the wooden chair clattered on the floor as the others exploded into confused action, not sure what I was going to do. But my mind was far from them at the moment.

_Over there! It's coming from over there!_

I turned on my heel and froze in my tracks before many, many screens. Televisions, stacked upon one another in an impressive display. I would've looked closer at them, tried to regain more memories from them if every single one of them didn't sport Bishop's demonic face.

Every muscle was tense and trembling as I stared into the faces of twenty Bishops. They all smiled cordially. My breath froze in my lungs as I saw all those eyes staring back at me with the smiling face that laughed at my pain and torment so many times... Even as my hands clenched and unclenched, my jaw tightened and my arms trembling with impending violence towards those smilng faces, a woman's voice cut in, shattering my sensations enough to remember where I was.

"Well, Bishop, because of what happened to your last facility are you going to take more consideration with this new location to keep history from repeating itself?"

His smile was cold, cynical, and somewhat hateful though I doubt the reporter noticed it at all. It would take someone who knows him well to see such a thing. Even as he bared his teeth at the woman, his face every inch impatience and smug superiority, his voice still came out crooning, calm and controlled. "Of course, miss. Naturally, our new location is newer and in a better section of the neighborhood with much higher security so another break-in from animal rights activists won't happen again. Not to say that we're not looking for the perpertrators who released our subjects and killed my workers..." He stared straight into the camera, he stared straight at me. I shuddered. "We will definetly not fail to continue to look for them for as long as I live."

Animal right's activists? What a bullshit story. But he's looking for me. Instead of being filled with foreboding like I thought that I would, glorious rightesnouss hit me with it's hot power. He was looking for me. With all that was before him, I was a priority on his mind. I could see it in his eyes, he was borderline obsessed with the idea. His pupils were strained, his face was tight, even his normally perfect hair had a few strands out of place. He wanted me back.

Al grinned manically beside me. _Perhaps we should give it to him..._

I started, then smiled menacingly along with him. My muscles jumped in accordance to my mood as I squatted slightly, flexing my limbs. They were heated for action. "Yes, why go to him when he can come to us? He wants me back, we don't even have to search, he can come to us and we can meet again...he just won't come away from the encounter alive..."

_YES!!_ Al jumped enthusiastically. _Exactly my thoughts! Oh, Michelangelo, for these months I'd thought I'd lost you but you were never gone! My friend! My brother! We shall wade in the blood of your enemy!_

Giggling at the thought, I continued to stare transfixed at the screens. They were playing again the scene that I had caused at the old building, blaming animal rights activists for going 'over the line' in Bishop's 'harmless experimentation' of a few domestic animals. I laughed out loud even as my blood began to heat up due to the anger bubbling in my veins. I could feel the pounding in my head that seemed so similar to the footsteps of that ominous man. "So I'm an animal rights activist, eh? Maybe they're right. Maybe I am an animal. I'll just have to prove it by hunting that b#stard down like I am one!"

Al sniffed beside me, a slight grin playing on his face. _Can you believe it, Michelangelo? Harmless experimentation?_

His words revved up my carnal urge, perhaps his intention. I briefly saw red in my vision even as I guffawed. "Yeah, harmless experimentation." I was absently aware of the other turtles slowly approaching me. I had almost forgotten about them. Then, feeling Al beside me, I wiped them from my mind momentarily as we continued. "Was it harmless when he removed my organs? Remember when he took those grafts from my skin? When he did that shit to my eyes so I can hardly see color? He didn't even use anesthesia EVER!" The anger built up inside of me, I realized it and wondered if it should be there. Somehow, though carnally it felt so right, it also felt wrong. Then Al stepped in and stroked it once more.

_How dare he call that harmless! You were trapped there for so long with no one to help you! No one but me! And he has the audacity to call it harmess? He tortured you daily! There wasn't a day that went by without unbearable pain! We shall kill him slowly, you and I!_

I smiled, my anger stoked to a high peak. Every muscle was trembling with anticipated violence as volitile energy zapped through my veins. I nearly jumped at the sensation. "Yes, no one came for me. No one helped me. I was alone but for you and now we will go and kill him like the dog that he is. Kill him slowly!"

Suddenly the screens, showing Bishop's smiling face once more shut off into a sea of blackness. I stared stunned at them for a moment, my mind struggling to process through what had just happened. Then I heard a step beside me. Whirling in an explosion of motion, I faced it.

It was one of the turtles, Donatello, holding the remote in his hand. He was staring at me with wide eyes, stepping back slightly, yet holding himself loose as if awaiting an attack.

In an instant I realized that that was exactly what I wanted to do.

Immediately Al was beside me, goading me on. _What are you waiting for? We just heard the location of Bishop's next place, we can destroy him! All that is standing in your way are these weaklings who have viciously kept you from your goal for such a time! Kill one or all of them and escape. It is your destiny to kill Bishop! It is your RIGHT! They are all that is standing in your way! Once they are gone you are free to pursue him! THEY ARE ALL THAT IS STANDING IN YOUR WAY!_

I took a step towards him, muscles visibly twitching with the urge to be put into action. The color drained a bit from Don's face as I zeroed in on him, my gaze seemed to bore into his flesh. Gingerly he held up his hands as if in a gesture of peace.

_A trick! A trick! Spill his blood upon the floor before the others stop you!_

I took another step and the turtle let the remote clatter to the floor. My fists clenched and unclenched as I approached him with my teeth bared. "M-mikey! Please! I-I was only trying to help!" Suddenly I moved, leaping towards him in a high jump. His bostaff in his hands in an instant, he used it to help push himself out of the way. My hand grasped the rough wood and yanked it out of his hands.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the others explode into action, rushing towards me. My muscles sang with joy as I met them halfway. Wood whistled through the air as it struck their bodies. They grunted in pain and danced back, circling me slowly, cautiously. Curiously I came away unscathed. Something nibbled at the back of my mind at this fact, grimly I shoved it away.

Leonardo moved first, feinting to his left before coming at me to his right. Thanks to a warning call from Al, I saw it coming and hit him squarely in the jaw with a roundhouse kick before smacking his chest with the butt of my spear. The blow knocked his breath out and he took an instant to get it back.

An instant too long.

I was already moving, my eyes eyeing his delicate throat with the vital windpipe and jugular vein, all I would need would be to get a hold of one...

Suddenly two arms grabbed my shoulders from below, locking my shell against his plastron. Instantly I snarled and struggled to get free from this classic wrestling hold. I kicked high with my legs, nearly kicking myself in the head but not nearly reaching that of the turtle holding me. A carnal scream escaped my lips as I struggled with Raphael, him doing nothing but holding on and whispering something to me. Then Leonardo grasped one foot. Immediately I kicked out with the other one, aiming for his beak. Twisting deftly, he caught it and held both ankles underneath my bicep in a way similar to what Raphael was doing, similar to what Bishop had done.

The walls, the ceiling, the situation changed as pristine white walls washed into view. The two guards holding me snickered as I screamed and arched my back. I struggled to get loose, but all it made them do was tighten their hold. They didn't move me, just held me in place for something horrible that was to come.

Al sobbed beside me, stroking my head._ Michelangelo, we'll get through this! We'll get free once more, we will!_

"Hurry!" the guard at my feet yelled. Panic jolted through my system at the word. Panting, I jerked my head towards the direction of the order. My heart went into overdrive as I saw a third man in a labcoat with a syringe. The needle seemed to glisten menacingly in the bright light of the exam room. My veins seemed to tighten up in fear of what was about to transpire. It was about to happen all over again. What were they going to remove this time, I wonder?

The needle in his hand was trembling. Maybe he was new, maybe he wasn't sure of himself... I arched my back and screamed again, kicking and swinging uselessly at my captors. I screamed for them to stop, I screamed to end the pain, I screamed to scream. The man with the needle hesitated, but continued slowly. With one last trembling spasm, I finally fell limp in their arms. I had 'shut myself off.' The men looked at each other with odd looks, looks that I've never seen the guards have. Was it fear? Pity? It didn't matter, all that mattered was that in their confusion their grip was loosening.

I waited as they exchanged careful words with one another, struggling to keep my muscles jerking from excitement or anticipation. Maybe in this particular procedure I could kill a few guards, or even escape!

_Death is what they deserve. Death is what we will bring._

Yes. Al is right. He's always right. Death to all who touch me!

Finally the one at my feet loosened one of his hands around my ankle. I watched it dangle in my mind and allowed my anticipation and anger to coil up inside me until it felt near bursting point. Then I let it do just that.

Exploding into motion my feet escaped easily from the grasp, as did my arms. Immediately they moved towards me but I already grabbed the guard nearest to me and in one swift motion wrapped my arm around his neck, slipped his weapon from his belt and brought it to his throat.

But something stopped me from coming the final few millimeters.

_What are you waiting for! Kill him! KILL HIM!!_

But I was puzzled. "But Al, he doesn't feel like a guard..."

_What are you talking about. Of course he's a guard! A guard that nearly made you submit to another procedure! Kill him!_

I shook my head. Somehow my thoughts seemed fuzzy. "No, the others...thy would've attacked me by now, but why haven't they?" This guard didn't feel right, he was wearing a cloth uniform, why did his back feel so...hard?

One of the guards looked at me with wide eyes. "Because we want you to let him go, Mikey. And we're not guards, we're your family."

_Family? What family? I'm all that you have!_

Rage pulsed through me. "Yes! What family! I was alone all that time except for Al! He's my friend! He's my family!" I tightened my arm around the guard's neck and held the weapon firmly. Why was the stun gun starging to look like a long metal fork?

The doctor had dropped the syringe and was holding his hands in a placating gesture. Did his hands look greenish? "Mikey...Al isn't real."

I automatically I tightened my grip on my victim and felt the warm trickle of blood on my arm from where the weapon pierced his skin slightly. "How can you say such things! Al is my friend! He saved me! He helped me escape."

_You don't need them! I was the one who was there for you!_

"Mikey, let Raph go! You're hurting him! Is that what you want?" The other strangely greenish looking guard said.

Raphael? The name seemed to jolt through me. How would a guard know his name? And now that I think of it, why would they use mine? I looked down at my calm, unnmoving captive and was shocked to find that not only was the guard bald, but his skin was a dark green. I looked at the weapon in my hand to discover it was a sai. "I thought you were a guard..." I murmured softly.

_Don't hesitate any longer! He still deserves death!_

I shook my head, then opened my eyes once more. He was right. This wasn't a guard, and this wasn't Bishop's. Leonardo and Donatello stood to the side, clearly undecided on the course of action. Then I saw the needle by Donatello's feet and my jaw tightened. That part wasn't made up. "I should kill him anyway." I snarled, shifting my grip on the sai handle.

"Why?" Raph's voice suddenly creaked out.

I was momenarily startled. Why? To my despair I had to think about it. "Because you abandoned me to Bishop. Because you don't care about me." My voice felt oddly tight, as though I were choking...

"That's not true!" Leo practically begged. His voice was cracking and his eyes were getting slighly swollen. He wiped them on his hand. "We never forgave ourselves when you got captured. We'd look for you night after night, day after day..." He took a shuddering breath, almost as though there were a weight pressing down on his shoulders. "We'd find out where Bishop hid you only when we got there he had moved already." Hot tears poured down his cheeks suddenly as he couldn't meet my eyes. "We failed you, Mikey. I failed you. We tried, God knows we tried, again and again and again and again. But each time, you weren't there. You just weren't there."

_LIES! Lies! All of them, lies!_

"Please, Michelangelo. Listen to your brother. We..."

"No." the voice came from Raphael. He straightened and slowly released himself from my grasp. I stood dumbfounded and horribly confused both from the situation and the fact that I had just let him escape. But he didn't go far. His sai still in my hand, he turned to face me and brought the tip to his throat again. "You can kill me if you wish, but we'll do that step face to face."

_DO IT! DO IT! DO IT! KILL HIM NOW! NOW!_

"RAPH!"

"Shut up Leo!" He growled, his eyes never leaving mine. "Mikey, you can take your revenge, God knows I don't blame you after what happened. I understand you're being angry at us, after all like Fearless Leader over there said, we failed you. But you gotta know we aren't the real enemy. Why kill us? We can help you towards your goal..."

"Raph, don't..."

_HE'S LYING! KILL HIM AS HE STANDS!_

My mind was in chaos. I didn't know what to think. His eyes were so...clear. It had been some time since I gazed into eyes like this before. Slowly, almost mechanically I spoke the answer that had been mine for so long. "But Al said-"

"What?" He interrupted. I started, not feeling nearly so powerfully angry anymore. The intense confusion made me feel weak...I wanted to hide. "You're going to do everything that Al says? What has he done for you? I mean literally? Did he help you escape?"

"Yes, he-"

"So there was blood on his hands? He helped you take out the guards? He showed you wear to go?" I felt like shrinking into the floor, but this figure, so powerful in my other life, wouldn't let me. With his weapon in my hand still pointed at his throat, I forced myself to think. How many guards did Al take out? I couldn't think of one, all the attacks had been done by me with his support. I was the only one with the blood on my hands, the only one in any real danger. I shook my head no at his question.

_Mikey! What are you doing? He's tricking you with his lies! Don't listen to him! Please, I am your friend. I love you with all my heart, don't you love me?_

My eyes flitted over to where he stood, but Raph stepped in front of my eys. "Don't look at him right now, Mikey. If he's real like you say, he'll come over and make me move, he'll do something to make himself known other than trying to convince you of whatever. Don't pay attention to him. Look," he put his hands out and grabbed my arms. "do you feel that? I'm real. Do you see where you cut my throat? I bleed because I am alive. Have you ever seen Al bleed? Has he done anything but watch you get tortured and talk? What has he done for you? Truly?"

That spot in my head ached with a pulsating pain as I struggled to piece my thoughts together. It was in that exact spot of my mind...the pulling...

Splinter stepped beside Raphael with a calm look in his eyes. "Answer your brother, Michelangelo. Answer him and we can make a new bowl of Spaghettio's for you."

His words brought back what had just transpired at the table. How could I have forgotten so quickly? I heard them arguing over me, over how to help me. Then they shared a meal in a way that I can hardly remember. They were gentle, patient. Why would they do that if they were my enemies? Raphael is standing in a way that I could kill him in an instant. Yet he...trust... And when we fought, I came away unscathed because they didn't want to hurt me. They were holding back!

There was wild desperation in Al's eyes as he stood beside me._ Mikey! You can't listen to them! PLEASE!_

It was too much all at once.

_You have to listen to me! I know what's best for you! We must escape!_

My thoughts were racing.

_You are mine, you always have! I would never let anything bad happen to you!_

"But you did!" I threw the sai down on the floor, my body trembling. "He was right, you were there, but you did nothing! I was in pain, I was screaming but you did nothing! Why did you do nothing!"

_Listen to yourself! You're making no sense! THEM! They put those ideas in your head! You must kill them and go after Bishop! Come on! We'll do it together._

"No we won't! You'll watch while I do it!" Tears in my eyes, I looked up at him, now standing away from the others. "And I don't want to kill them! Why do you want to kill them? They are NOTHING like you said, they've been loving and kind. And I remember things now, I remember things before I was caught. I don't think that they're lying, I think maybe YOU are!"

Immediately his image flickered slightly as he gave me an enraged look. _How DARE you doubt me! After all that I've done for you! You are MINE! I will never let you go even for these sniveling punks you have the audacity to call a FAMILY! I should've made you kill them long ago! After this is done, Mikey, you wil PAY! You will be mine FOREVER!_

I shrank before the imposing figure. Trembling I relapsed into the usual response. "I-I'm sorry, Al, I-"

Then Raph stepped slightly in front of me, staring in the general direction that I was staring with both sai drawn. "Scratch that Al, buddy-boy. He's not sorry. And he's sick and tired of getting shoved around by the likes of you. You make him do your dirty work? Why not do your own? Kill me yourself, tough guy." He tightened his grips on his sai. "I double dare ya. No one's getting to my baby brother so long as I'm here."

The pain in my head intensified, it felt as though it were going to burst.

_AAAAARRRRGGGGGHHH!_ Enraged, he flitted to my other side. _KILL HIM! MAKE HIS BLOOD SPILL! NO ONE WILL TAKE YOU AWAY FROM ME! NO ONE!!_

Suddenly Leo stepped beside me, katana drawn, staring in the direction that I was at Al. "Sorry Al. We lost our brother once, it's not going to happen again. Not under my watch."

The pain seemed to stab outwards, towards my skull, towards the air.

Even as he whirled to the other side and my eyes followed, Don stepped in front of him. "We will defend our brother with everything we have. With you gone, he will get a chance to finally heal the way he needs to."

It was like a thread pulled taut, about to pull free some vestige within my mind.

Screaming he rushed at me at my last undefended side. Suddenly Splinter appeared before him, though I had the feeling that unlike the others he was looking directly at Al. "You are no longer welcome here, spirit. You shall release my son immediately or suffer the consequences."

He stopped dead in his tracks at Splinter's words and I felt another hard, painful pluck within my skull. Slowly I rose my head and met Al's eyes with my own. Splinter's voice whispered to me within the barricade of my family surrounding me. "I believe it is time to say goodbye, Michelangelo."

Al looked at me with utter horror even as my lips formed the words. "Goodbye, Al. Thank you for all that you've done, I'll miss you."

The room seemed to go dark as he shrieked at me, causing the pain in my head to intensify almost beyong my bearing. _YOU LITTLE IDIOT! YOU CAN'T JUST DROP ME FROM YOUR MIND! YOU'VE SURROUNDED YOURSELF WITH ENEMIES WHO WILL NEVER LET YOU PURSUE BISHOP THE WAY WE WANT TO! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS! DON'T THINK THAT I'M JUST GOING TO LET YOU GO! YOU'LL SEE ME AGAIN, DAMN YOU, AND WHEN YOU DO YOU'LL WISH THAT YOU NEVER MADE SUCH A STUPID DECISION! YOU WILL BE MINE FOREVER!_

I shut my eyes tight at his screaming, at the blinding pain in my head, tears appearing at the corners of my eyes, and before I realized it I was on the floor. Immediately the figures around me dropped their weapons and held me as I sobbed huge wracking sobs that shook my frame terribly. Everywhere I was being caressed, soothed. Strong arms everywhere provided the warmth and support that I needed and I just let myself go.

I'm not sure how long we sat there on the floor, but I remember one of them whispering into my ear "don't worry. You want to get Bishop, I'll do it by your side."

Bishop...

Yet through all the words, I couldn't help but wonder at the last words Al uttered before he vanished.

* * *

A/N: I know, sucky way to end the chapter but it had to be done. Was also quite a bit longer than I thought but oh well, so far you guys haven't minded. It might've been a bit rushed, but it just poured out! I've prolonged doing my homework because I couldn't get this chapter out of my head, and now that I've written it I'll encourage my studies by only reading reviews after! I just love reading reviews! I normally re-read them to inspire the writing of another chapter, so for future inspiration for chapter7 go ahead and ramble to your hearts content in the review box!

For the Zombie story fans, I haven't forgotten about it. I'm awaiting feedback on my ideabounceroffer to get the next chapter rolling.

Toodles!


	7. Filling the Void

Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles

A/N: Happy to see you again! Hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter 7

Filling the Void

They say that revenge is a dish best served cold. In this case, mine would be extra frosty. For I had lost a main link to my revenge, I had lost my best friend Al. I know that he lied to me, but it was him that could best inspire me into the fierce bloodlust that was required for such an act. He could get me wanting Bishop's death, needing to hear his pain-filled cries, desiring the sight of his blood spilling scarlet across the walls.

Now it was different, when it came to Bishop I almost didn't care anymore...I was emotionally drained and simply wanted it to end, it was nearly like I was content to live a life of peace after so much torment. My family was constantly around me, supportive, loving, caring. Why would that ebb away at my desire for revenge against the being who held me captive, torturing, belittling me, breaking my spirit...I don't know. I am so confused, sometimes I don't know what to think. I live one day at a time, hardly thinking of anything but the present.

Almost as though I was trying to think of anything but revenge.

* * *

I jumped at the slight shadowy movement in the corner, my skin trembling yet my muscle contorted, ready in an instant for any necessary action.

Donatello stepped into view, both palms held up in mock 'surrender' with a notebook tucked under his arm. "Sorry Mikey, I didn't mean to startle you, really. I was just wondering if you were ready for any more questions..." his eyes strayed to my side. I followed his gaze and saw that my fists were clenched tight, the whites of my knuckles showing even through my green skin. Looking at them, I slowly loosened them, my tight knuckles cracking and nail gouges in my palms exposed to open air.

My eyes moved to him and took in his unsure stance and nervous smile. He was nervous, trying to appear non-threatening yet trying to read my body language, he was still afraid. I wasn't used to being in the company of ninjas, and I had struck him on more than one occasion when he came up behind me a bit too quietly. In fact, nearly everyone had felt my instinctive blows and had since learned to avoid approaching me from my blind sides. All but Donatello, that is. When he was in a 'thinking' mode, everything else left his mind and thus had suffered quite a bit from my reactions. I just couldn't help it, it was hard drived into me from my time with Bishop, without those violent reflexes I would be sporting more scars than I already possessed.

"I don't really want to..." I mumbled, averting my eyes from his suddenly, embarrassed over my reaction even still. Ever since I was judged even remotely stable he was persistently observing, asking me questions, and examening me physically. Some I could hardly stand, especially the physical examinations. Everything brought back to me the pain and sheer terror that I had experienced under the hands of Bishop. The physical touches reminded me of the experiments, the pain, the guards, and of Bishop. Even now my reactions had caused my family to hesitate to lay a finger on me, even as a friendly, brotherly gesture. The questioning brought freshly to mind all of the events of terror and brutality, some that I had all but forgot and wished that I could continue to forget. The observing was eerie, to say the least, it put me on edge. I might be doing something completely mundane and out of the corner of my eye I'd see a dark green, purple banded turtle perched on something while scribbling away in his notebook.

He sensed my change in attitude and I felt him get excited. "How are you feeling right now? What is causing you to become so nervous? Could you describe to me the emotions that you are experiencing?" He stared at me, eyes bright, pencil poised. I looked at my feet, wishing desperately that I could simply sink into the wall. What was I supposed to say? I didn't like these things. I knew that he wasn't trying to be mean, Splinter had told me plenty of times after chastising Don for being too persistent. He simply lost control of his scientists' mind sometimes. I was told that he could get like this with solitary projects as well, not even acknowledging your existence unless you physically forced him into reality. Yes, I understood. I didn't like it, but I understood. After all, I must be a mightily unique case study. I could get like that sometimes, when my mind wandered, I would 'find' things... That's one reason why so far my family has been afraid to leave me alone, they don't want me to 'accidently' find Al again. They don't like the places that my mind can sometimes go.

"Mikey?"

I jerked, realizing that I was staring at the same spot on my toe for some time. I had spaced out again. I whipped my head up to see Don, peering at me curiously with his pencil still tightly clutched between his fingers. It was like he was expecting me to do something crazy. I felt incredible sorrow all of a sudden, the sadness etching itself on my face. Don's face immediately changed expression. "Oh, Mike, I'm sorry if I did it again! Look, I'll go now and leave you alone, I'll-"

"Stop bugging him!"

We both turned to see the red clad turtle glaring at Don. He shrinked sheepishly beneath his gaze, waving slightly. "I was actually just going, Raph. Promise!" Flashing me an apologetic smile he darted out of sight.

I sighed at the sight of my brother. Out of everyone, he has been the brother that I've clung to the most. He was also the most protective. The most steady. The most constant. The easiest to get along with.

He didn't expect a thing of me except to be there.

Thus I was moved out of my demolished room, partly to keep me from being alone and partly, I suspect, because they feared it would bring up memories of Al and perhaps bring them back. So, I was moved in with Raph. Though he snored, the constant noise was somewhat of a comfort and he was the one who was the least bothered by my preference to hang my hands in the air and sit up while I sleep. Perhaps because I slept that way so long, sitting up with shackles around my wrist, that I couldn't revert back to lying down. I wasn't even sure I wanted to change it, it felt so constant.

Don wanted to look into my past, to heal, to learn, to study. While these were admirable goals, it simply didn't feel right to me, it was like I was the subject of a different _kind_ of experimentation. Leo had determined that everything could be solved by meditation and constant physical training, thus he was constantly trying to get me to participate. I quickly found that neither of these seemed to help the situation, something that he didn't seem to see. The meditation, while I swiftly found that I am quite adept at (perhaps from the times I was alone before Al) simply drew me into a deep depression or a mysterious rage. Everything that currently resided in my mind, it seemed, was not good for me. Physical training either drained me or brought back the tinges of mindless need for violence that I'd eperienced so often with Al.

Raph leaned in close, as close as he knew that I was comfortable, and spoke. "Look, Mikey I planned this thing out, you have to see it. We can fix everything, you and I, we don't need the rest of them. We-" A sound across the Lair made him dart his head to the side. Hesitating a bit, he turned to me again. "But not here, we'll talk more in our room. Follow me." I was perplexed by his speach, not having a clue of what he was talking about, but followed him anyway.

I padded behind him softly, my head down, my eyes staring blankly ahead. Just as I'd always Don in Bishop's lab when it was beneficial to play 'dummy' I opened my senses to my surroundings. I could hear the creak of Don's chair and the preperatory crack of knuckles before he started clacking away at the keyboard in his lab across the Lair. The mats in the Dojo made an odd squeaking sound as Leo's foot pivoted on them, probably doing one of his katas. The televisions were playing a melodious, simple theme song that I recognized instantly. It was one of the video games on pause. One that apparently used to be my favorite. I can't stand them now, they were senseless, useless...

A hand on my arm made my muscles spasm as my heart went cold with instant fear. Jerking my body, I whirled around, arms tight, ready to face whatever had touched me. An aging hand caught my wrist with ease, a furry, worried face looking up at me. "I apologize for approaching you in such a way, Michelangelo. It was a lapse in judgement in my part."

I forced my trembling muscles to calm down, though it was difficult. Holding my breath, I concentrated the rush of violent anger within me, away for now. Suddenly my limbs felt weak and I wanted to hide, feeling defenseless with that emotion now unavailable. I looked upon my father and felt worse. His expression was one of sadness, something I could plainly see despite the smile on his face. I could tell he wanted so desperately to touch me, to hug me...but I could not. For the life of me, I could not be like he wanted me to be, like I was before.

He sighed and cleared his throat. "I wanted to speak to you, if you have the time my son." Raph opened his mouth to protest but the rat shot him a glance. "I believe it is of importance to your getting well." Raph caught his breath, but didn't look happy about it. I looked at them both, knowing that they didn't expect me to see the silent communication with my head hanging down like it was. They'd be surprised.

I looked at Splinter. I knew he phrased the request like that to be polite, for there was nothing for me to do since I got here, at least nothing that I was assigned. I always had time, almost too much. I looked at my brother beside me meekly and he nodded. "Yeah, uh, I'll catch up with you later Mike. Then we can talk some, kay?" I nodded and with a slight smile he left us alone.

So I followed Splinter to his room and watched with some trepidation as the ricepaper doors closed behind us. This room was so different than anyplace else. It was slightly closed in but beautifully decorated with delicate looking japanese designs. Momentos were placed in places of admiration and there was a slender stick of incense burning almost constantly. Strangely it seemed to me almost like another prison.

Sitting down nervously, I silently accepted the tea, though I didn't take a sip, and watched with my head down as he sat across from me. We sat in uncomfortable silence for a little bit, him pulling together his thoughts and me wishing that I could sink into the floor. Perhaps he was expecting me to say the first word, he looked like he was expecting something.

Then he quietly cleared his throat and started. "Michelangelo, I wish to know what is holding you back from us."

The words surprised me and I could do nothing but sit there and stare at the same spot on the wooden floor, silently scrambling for my thoughts amidst much confusion. Finally, I choked something out. "Splinter?"

Even though I didn't look directly at him, I could see him smile. "Perhaps you are not aware of it, alas I cannot tell at this time. But there is something, perhaps something related to your...former companion...that is keeping you from healing your spirit as you should. You have progressed very admirably in these many days since you have become truly free, but some time ago, something happened within you and it not only halted your healing, but in a way it even caused you to get worse."

He left the sentence on that note, perhaps expecting to reveal what was weighing on my mind right away, or at least give away a clue. In truth, though for some reason his words rang treu somehow. What was it? for some reason I couldn't think of it. And I wanted to, I wanted to make Splinter happy. He was so nice to me. There did seem to be a void...what was in there? Scrunching my brow, I put in some thought to it and suddenly that same spot in my head shot pain once again. Wincing, I instinctively put my hand to my head, wishing it away.

Suddenly the silence seemed to become stronger and I looked up to see Splinter staring at me with wide, fearful eyes. I was startled and momentarily forgot the pain and stared back at him, something in me wanting to know what he was thinking and something else begging me to turn away. "Splinter?" I whispered out.

"My son," he said hoarsely and closed his eyes tightly before taking a deep breath. Suddenly I knew, he saw something that you could not see with your eyes. I was afraid, what did he see? What did he sense? The stabbing pain in my skull intensified briefly before completely dissappearing, leaving me with a cold, chilled feeling. I stared at my father, very much wary, very much afraid.

"My son," he repeated and clutched his own head in a weary gesture. "I apologize, but it appears that we will have to continue this some other time. Something has...come to my attention...that needs to be seen to. Ah," he paused, assessing me silently. I could distinctly feel that he was holding something back. I fought down the brief urge to charge to my feet and demand information, to get it out of him in any way possible. I wasn't like that anymore. Shaking my head, I heard him shift slightly.

He crossed his legs more comfortably, laying his hands in a way that I knew. He was about to do some serious meditation. I couldn't help but shiver. Every time I meditated I saw...horrible things...I hated it, even though from what my family tells me I am much better at it than I was before. He spoke without meeting my gaze, I got a bad, cold, slinking sensation in my gut at the action. "You are about to join your brother Raphael?" I nodded. Still not meeting my gaze, he continued. "For the next few days I would wish it that you were with one of your brothers at all times, no matter what you are doing. Is that understood?"

I was both perplexed at the words in the request and slowly getting angry at the fact that it was an order. I could almost imagine what Al would say at a time like this... of course I musn't think of such things. Heated with a mixture of feelings I opened my mouth to answer, but could think of nothing to say. Splinter continued. "I will inform your brothers of this decision, so you need not worry about telling them. Now, go join your brother so that I can rest."

"But what happened?" I mannaged to utter out.

He looked up, startled at my only group of words in our entire one sided conversation. Emotions flicked across his eyes until they finally relaxed in something that I could not read. "Do not worry about it, my son. Perhaps it is simply the odd worries of an old rat." With that he closed is eyes in a clear indication of the end of our meeting. Hesitantly, I got up and in three steps I was out of the room. I found Raph waiting for me and immediately found comfort in the stoic, confident demeanor of my brother.

I had no idea what he was wanting as he led me to our room, my mind was still reeling from all of what transpired. So much I wondered, so much I didn't know, so much I wanted to know. How do you come by such information? I was horribly confused.

Immediately upon entering the room, Raph shut the door behind us and fumbled for a box buried in the closet. With an excited, intense gleam in his eye, he grinned as he placed it on the floor between us.

Opening it, his mouth opened a floodgate of words as he pulled out and pointed to different pieces of paper. That was the map of the building where Bishop now held his work. This was showing the piping in the place, this had all the security information. Unfurling a paper, loose with constant handling, he began to lay out a plan. How we could use the piping that led to the waterside, bypass the security here, and defeat it here. He explained what type of weapons the guards would be using and the best ways to disarm them. Using them is useless, he explained, thanks to a thumbprint technology. Bishop's office would likely be held in this room, with this type of additional security. His main work areas were in these three rooms. The type of work was unknown, but I could have Bishop handed to me. "It took a hell of a lot of planning and research, but I told ya I'd help you," he whispered hoarsely after the long speach, pushing a photograph of Bishop to me. He grinned and met my eyes. "I told you."

Throughout the entire thing my thoughts were going crazy, though you couldn't tell it through my expressionless face. Get Bishop? I could have my revenge? A feeling that I hadn't had for many weeks started to slowly unfurl deep within my gut, slowly coarsing down my veins and warming my body. The weak, depressed pacifist slowly began to be replaced with something infinetly more familiar. I felt like I could charge anything, win at anything. It was the ease, the confidence, the violent mood that got me out of the last lab. My muscles tightened and my breathing increased, I clutched the picture, staring into those eyes. Those eyes...I wanted Bishop dead. I wanted to tear open his throat. I wanted to hear him scream.

"I want to kill him." My voice sounded much harsher than I intended, but I seemed to revel in that. Raph, looking at me, grinned at the sound. It was almost like he could see the fire in my own eyes, the redness in my voice. As if he could taste the familiar coppery taste on my tongue. As if he approved.

"Yeah, you can kill him. You need to, if you're gonna get any better. You have to kill him. You have to." He truly thought this was rehabilitation. Who knows, perhaps it was. Perhaps this thing left undone was the empty void that had been sucking me dry for so long.

Yet I shook my head.

"No, Raph. I _want_ to."

* * *

A/N:I know, not too much action in there. And we were dealing with flinchy, scared Mikey most of the time, but things will change again. We're over the halfway point in this story, I can see the end coming in maybe 3 or 4 chapters. Please let me know what you think about it, any predictions, what you'd like to see happen, stuff like that. It might not change anything that I write, but sometimes I get ideas from reviews and they also give me the gumption to start writing again!

Toodles!


	8. Righteous Death

Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles

A/N: Finals are over and I got excellent grades on my final reports, my advancement exam isn't for another couple of months and I am a 23 year old with new braces on her teeth. Everything is just peachy, ain't it? Now is the time to input another chapter, don't you think? Well, here it goes! I hope that you enjoy it! Special thanks to Pretender Fanatic for helping me to hammer out the details.

Chapter 8

Rightfull Death

There are many people who are advocates against anything to do with killing. It would be a revenge killing, something not seen highly in the eyes of society. It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be just. No matter what that individual did, their life should not be taken. Other forms of punishment should be put into practice. Maybe they're afraid of killing. Maybe they think that it will turn them into monsters, into the very people that they kill. Perhaps this is why they fear the death in others.

Most of these people are also against any sort of torture. Information and punishment should not come through pain, they say. It is too savage, too immoral. They say that anyone who even thinks of practicing any form of torture is inhuman. They lower themselves in humanities perspectives for the rest of their lives.

I don't think humanity regards mutant turtles very highly anyway. As for revenge being inhuman? Well, it's good thing I'm not human.

Some people need to learn that at certain times, death can be a good thing.

* * *

We're doing it. I can't believe that we're actually doing it.

My heart thudded hard against my plastron, yet my muscles were steady except for the merest tremble as I silently followed my brother. Despite the slow, stealthy pace that we had set, my body felt electrified, wanting action, needing to release some of this energy on some other being of meat. Aching to feel my flesh come into forceful contact with theirs, relishing the remembered sounds of bones cracking, blood splattering the walls, bodies hitting the floor.

I had barely contained my excitement as we executed the simple yet deliciously deceptive plan of escaping the Lair. The brothers bought it, taking me on an extended scenic rout to bring back happy memories for rehabilitation, but I wasn't so sure that Splinter did. Ever since the previous day when he sat me in his room, he had been looking at me oddly, as though expecting something to happen. But he didn't stop us from going and that was all that mattered.

Though I had long since stopped hating my family, wishing for their blood; they still had kept me a prisoner in my own former home. They never allowed me to leave, never allowed me to be with myself, they never tried to fulfill my own desires, to let me be my new self. They always wanted me to be how they remembered me to be. But I will never be that again. Raph understood what I needed. I needed blood. Not just any blood, but the very crimson liquid that flowed in the veins of the demonic man, the ever confident, ever in control, the ever cruel man who imprisoned and tortured me yet was unjustly allowed to live his merry life.

But not for long.

Scarcely remembering the trip from the Lair to the building that was now in our sights, I struggled to control myself. After all, if I got too excited and screwed things up now I would never be able to properly exact my revenge. I needed a calm mind, otherwise I might blunder things. This is the thing that I positively cannot blunder.

Despite my best efforts, I could hear my quick, excited breath as I crept to a stop beside my brother. Slowly, with the greatest of caution, he peered around the corner. Suddenly a familiar pain shot into my skull, making me wince as I sucked in my breath and held it until it passed. Merely revenge jitters.

I fingered my own bag, full of the surgical instruments that I had looted during my escape. I found it enlightening that I could use the exact same implements of torture on him that he used on me. He, too, would feel the biting pain of a steel scalpel.

Raph's plan was risky, maybe even a bit obvious, but that was exactly why it was a good idea. Diversion. Total chaos. Come in with a bang. Literally. The best part about it was that everything wasn't planned to a T. The biggest part was just getting in, after that it was pretty much make it up as you go kind of style.

Placing the tiny bag of delicate looking explosives in my hand, we nodded to each other and went into different directions. As he approached the left of the inconspicuous looking building and I approached the right, I took out one of the devices and fingered it in my palm. It was clear except for the fragile looking circuits in the center, but the clear part is what's important. It's jelly-like and very sticky, actually an utrom-made explosive that Don figured out how to make. The hardware was purely to set it off. How Raph got a hold of it...not sure. Probably took it from Don's lab. Either way I didn't care. I would finally get my revenge.

Every inch of the building was designed to avoid uneccessary attention. The guards weren't dressed as guards would normally be. They were garbed in the manner of hobos and homeless, shifting from one area to another in a seemingly aimless, yet sporatically patterned walk. I hated them already. They guarded what looked like an old, decripid 5 story brick building a couple blocks from the river, yet somewhat isolated by what could only be called an unnofficial dump. Old trash was strewn everywhere, since no one wanted to clean up or build next to a smelly heap, Bishop's new lab remained relatively free from pesky neighbors.

I couldn't wait to get inside and gut the place of all life.

Getting a clear view of the side of the building through the heaped trash I flung one of the explosives in the air with a swift flick of my arm. It sailed and smacked solidly against the wall, the sticky explosive substance holding it on that spot. Sprinting, I continued down the length of the building, deftly throwing the devices any time a lack of lighting or a guard looking away at the right moment would allow. It was easier than I thought. In an attempt to keep up the partially abandoned building look, flood lights would have been conspicuous. So other than the natural moonlight and more than usual barrel fires, it was bare. The building, though it was probably reinforced on the inside, still had a decaying exterior to keep up appearances. The small yet powerful explosives would do immense damage. I scoffed. In his attempt to keep this new building a secret, he had weakened his defenses and thus sealed his fate with me.

The big problem would be getting under it, where according to the charts that Raph had found, was where the real action took place.

I was half tempted to throw one at the guard, after all, all of that flesh exploding would make for some awesomely bloody carnage, but seeing as how Raph carried the trigger for the explosive, it wouldn't work.

We met at the back of the building. Just twenty feet away from us were some rusted looking double doors that we were going to enter from. A sticky explosive was stuck fast right in the middle of them.

Raph looked at me. "You're sure about this?" I looked back at him. He seemed suddenly...hesitant. As though he was beginning to think of the wisdom of his actions and found some key elements off.

I narrowed my eyes at him, a sudden tiny stabbing pain in my head making me irritable. "I NEED to kill him." I hissed as the pain ebbed. His eyes searched mine for a moment, a sad not etched in the deep brown. Frustration and anger itched at my side. He was remembering the old me again, wishing I were like that again. I don't think that the old me would've ever wanted to do something like this. But the old Mikey is dead. Now there is only me and he'd better get used to it. "Let's do this." I whispered hoarsely.

He swallowed, steeled his expression and nodded. Then, pulling out a small device he turned a knob.

The ground seemed to jolt under our feet as explosions rocked the building. The entire structure blossomed in an immense showing of orange, red and yellow as the fire rolled into the night sky. Raph and I leapt over the garbage heaps and sprinted towards the building, which was now immersed in hot light.

The place was a mess. Rubble, still falling from the tops of the buildings, was strewn everywhere. The screams of shocked, hurt, and dying men pierced the air. The surprise was so instant, that almost no one noticed us silently slipping by them. Those that did got a sliced jugular with surgical precision.

We were both silent as we slipped through the demolished double doors, into the severely damaged floorspace inside. Hardly anything existed in the above levels, but the old floor was decayed enough that the explosions stripped them away, revealing big patches of glossy stainless steel, the roof to the underlevels. There was a door with a combination lock resting on the floor and the thing that we were looking for: the chimney. As we hoped, the explosions stripped enough of the brick away that we could easily see the wide ventilation pipe, starting at level two. With two flips, using our combined weight to impact the steel grating, we were inside.

We landed in a somewhat empty room, littered with only large trash cans. With Raph's sai, the lock was easily picked and we were in.

It was chaos. Even safely protected in a steel box underground, the explosions still did their share of damage. Along with the defeaning thunderous sound as bits of the enormous building falling on the floor above, it was a veritable madhouse. An obvious office setting, people in business suits, assistants, and other professional looking people scurried there and there, stuffing papers into shredders and grabbing their belongings. I smiled. They thought they were under a different kind of attack, they were destroying evidence. Too bad they didn't realize what type of attack this really was.

They, and the guard at the door, didn't even have an instant to prepare for our arrival before we struck. Steel flashed in my hand and the guard slumped to the ground, arterial blood spurting from his neck. A manic grin played on my face as my muscles seized the energy that had been slowly building since the formation of these plans. My eyes wide, I launched myself at the useless people. Man and woman, I didn't care. I gutted them all. Sinking the blade into soft bellies protected only by a business suit, things spilled to the floor. Many were taken out by simple flicks of the steel in my hand, favoring their carotid, brachial and femoral arteries. Bright blood pumped into the air in arcs, covering me like a bloody shower. I reveled in it. Inhaling the thick coppery scent and licking the stuff off my lips, I was slipping on the blood on the floor by the time that I reached the last person and dispatched him. I took care of all of them quickly, after all my main goal was to get to Bishop. Then I would take my time.

I reached for the door.

Another hand grabbed the doorhandle before me. Snarling loudly, I turned to him. It was Raph. Loathe to leave the thrilling sensation of bloodlust behind, I glared at him and growled "OUT OF MY WAY!"

His eyes looked odd and he was covered with considerably less blood than me. "Mikey...you didn't have to kill them all...like that...they didn't do nuthin..." Though his face was unsure, his body was locked in position. He wanted answers.

My own eyes narrowed. He didn't understand. He just didn't understand any of it. Why didn't he feel it to? The glorious sensation of power? The seizing energy? Why didn't he get it? They weren't innocent, they all were a part of it. They were all his minions, scurrying to do his bidding. They were vermin. These were the same people, they were just last in line. They were cogs in the machine that was Bishop's empire. His empire must fall. I must destroy everything of his, everything. Why couldn't he understand that? Why couldn't he understand me? I could feel my bonding with him slip slightly at my confusion. I thought he was on my side...The pain flashed in my head once more and I winced, resisting the urge to clutch at my head. Ruthlessly I shoved the feeling away and looked at Raph again, taking a step closer until we were nose to nose. He wouldn't let me pass. Both our nostrils flared.

_Kill him!_

I started. Heart suddenly thudding hard against my chest in an entirely different way, I felt chilly and looked around for...something. But I saw nothing. Confusion reigned hard in my mind. I felt like something was there somehow... Raph was still looking at me. "Why?" He was more demanding this time, his jaw clenched, his eyes set.

Snarling, my hand tightened around the knob until my knuckles turned white. Why doesn't he just understand? Besides, it was too late to turn back now. I needed to finish this, I needed to kill Bishop. Just because some of his workers got in my way...he was too weak.

The throbbing in my head intensified as my deathgrip on the door tightened even more. My eyes never leaving Raph's I shoved at the door. Bracing his own weight, it didn't move an inch. "No, Mikey." I shoved at it again, with the same result. Raphs's eyes never left mine. My other hand slowly tightened into a fist, the handle of the scalpel that was clutched in it dug deep into my palm, bruising the flesh. "No, Mikey. Not like this." My arm tensed, the muscles trembling.

_Kill him!_

The voice, the familiar voice, ushered into my ears. Raph was standing in my way. I needed to get past him, at all cost.

Then a thought flashed in my head, one that hadn't appeared for months: what would Al do?

In an instant I saw him, standing rigidly behind Raph. His head lowered, eyes glaring, arms outstretched with fingers that were hooked like claws. His eyes flashed red and he bared his teeth, suddenly looking like the most frightening thing that I'd ever seen. With a terrifying screach, he launched himself bodily at Raph, closing the distance rapidly.

My heart thudded hard against my chest in panic. He was going to kill Raph. I'm not exactly sure what happened, I can't quite remember it all. I had exploded with a flurry of movement, let go of the door and went to Raph. Then, I'm looking down to see him fall to the ground, my knuckles aching and a long, deep furrow sliced into Raph's temple. Stunned, I stared down at my hand. Uncurling my fist, I had clutched the scalpel so tightly that it stuck to my fingers. The shining blade was stained with new blood, I could smell it. Raph's blood. In shock I looked down at my fallen brother. He still didn't move, he just lay there. I didn't want this!

A different kind of trembling seized my limbs and I instantly wanted a corner or a closet, anything! Slowly I curled my body, tears brimming at my cheeks as I bit my lip until it bled. What had I done?

_Get up!_

I startled again, my mind in a daze of confusion and overrun with emotion. Meekly I looked up to see him.

_What did you come here for?_

"Bishop." I whispered, slowly standing up again. I looked down at my brother.

_He had it coming, but don't worry, Michelangelo, we'll deal with him later._

Somehow, I felt that he was holding back. Why? The connection...it wasn't as strong as before, not nearly so. Yet still...I shook my head, suddenly the pain was intense in my skull. Somehow I felt that I had let Splinter down...What was it that he said again? "What will we do with him later?" This wasn't right, was it? He needed help, perhaps I should help him. Perhaps I should...

_Bishop. Bathe in his blood. Demolish his body. Kill him._

Bishop. Yes, that was it. Bishop. I looked at my brother once more, the scales working furiously in my head. He did need help...but Bishop was so near I could taste it.

As if by command, thoughts that I had pushed out of my head in previous months came flooding back. Me strapped to a table, paralyzed yet feeling everything as the surgeons opened my chest. Bishop gloating as he took skin grafts from my leg. The laughter as they cut, burned and teased my aching skin as I was strapped down. Sleeping in the cold, empty shell, sitting in my own shit, as Al kept me company...

_You are mine, and forever will be. _

I grabbed the doorknob, smiling at his exuberant encouragement as I stepped through the threshold. Something else nipped at the edges of my mind, but I pushed it aside for the now.

Today, tonight, Bishop will die. I will look upon his corps and laugh even as the light fades from his eyes.

It will be a righeous death.

* * *

A/N: I originally had a different tac in mind for this chapter, a different idea. But as I wrote it things just turned out differently than planned. Al came back a bit sooner! Hope you guys like it anyway, especially with so much of this stuff so close to Christmas! Oh, well...please review and let me know what you think! For those of you who like my zombie story, be happy to know that I'm 1/3 into the next chapter. Other than that, don't be afraid to ramble and have a Merry Christmas!

Toodles!


	9. Righteous Death pt 2

Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles

A/N: Here I am at work, all the patients have come in early, the doctors have moved uncharactaristically fast, and I am left with two hours to myself manning the front desk until I can go home and everything caught up for the day. What to do...what to do... Special thanks to raphfreak and Pretender Fanatic for helping to hammer out the details.

Chapter 9

Righteous Death part 2

The unknown was always such a wonderful thing to me. For what seemed like forever, I lived by the saying 'what you don't know can't hurt you.'

Humans are predictable beings and enjoy their lives to be predictable as well. They prepare for future events sometimes years in advance. They created clocks so that they could categorize their events better, calenders to organize dates years in advance, to be able to predict times between the now and the planned events. Even humans who proclaim that they love spontanaety are not spontaneous. They plan weeks in advance a mountain climb, skydive, time at a skateboard park, or anything inbetween. They even plan to make the money to pay to do these things.

Then they revel in their freedom.

Humans don't know the true meaning of freedom. of planting one foot in front of the other and not knowing where you're going. Fighting through a building, not knowing who you're going to run into, not knowing if the next face you see will be the last. There is a true freedom in complete lack of a plan, not caring of your future. For all you were concerned, you would be shortly facing death.

Sometimes that is the best way to live.

* * *

It was like a thrilling, enthralling dream. I never once recalled my feet touching the ground as my heart voraciously pumped the blood through my veins with such strength that I could hear the rhythmic beating in my ears. I stormed through the door, flying into the room even as the humans shreiked and fell over themselves in their effort to escape. Stainless steel spinning in my hands, I came down upon them. They never had a chance. Hot, red, sticky, coppery fluid fell upon my skin as I surged through them with a previously unknown feroucity. I wasn't even aware of their appearance, they were pointless beings without faces, each only one more easily toppled obstacle in my final destination.

That thought, the thought of meeting Bishop once more kept me energized to a level that I seldom experienced. With each precisely measured slice of the scalpel I imagined that being Bishop's neck, his pulsing artery, his life fluid gushing out of him in torrents. Only it wouldn't be so easy for him.

Al's presence was a constant booster, a constant high. A constant upper. It was like he was with me, _in_ me, surging my body with ecxitement, feeding my thirst for the chase and for the kill. He whooped and hollered as each body fell, urging me on, goading me to go further. With my face locked in an expression of manic torment, I did just that.

Always nipping at the back of my mind, at the heels of my thoughts, was my brother left lying on the floor in the first room...or my Master and his fateful words the previous night that I can't quite remember...or that nagging ache in my head... Yet each time my mind wandered in that direction, there was Al, everpresent Al. He cut at the connection like a string and whirled me around to the next exciting kill until I wasn't even aware of that strange feeling in my gut. Of the feeling that Al wasn't who I thought he was...

I was moving as though I weren't part of my own body. It was as if I was partially watching what was going on and was just along for the ride. It was an eerie, yet thrilling sensation that I was loathe to leave behind. It made it seem so...exciting. It was as though all the horrible things of the past didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was the here and now.

The closer that I got to my destination, the more energized I became. Deeper into the ground I went, through more and more challenging humans. They appeared from behind the doors, brandishing pistols, stun guns, batons, tonfas and other assorted weapons. They could hardly touch me. I was like a crazed demon, covered in blood, pupils fixed and dilated, teeth bared in a manic smile. They always hesitated. They always panicked. Thus, when they shot, they always missed. I was never in one place for more than an instant, rebounding off the floor, the furniture and the walls. They hardly knew where to aim their crude weapons, never realizing that their greatest potential weapons were their own bodies. With stainless steel flashing in my hands I cut them down until some even had the sense to run. I didn't let these escape either.

Though I wasn't sure at which point it was pulled, the alarm was pulled. Although no sound was made, red lights flashed and strobed in the hallways and rooms. Everything was highlighted in flashing, pulsating red. Somehow it seemed to suite my mood, or even better, to feed it. The red in the scene seemed to be the red in my eyes, the red in their blood...

How many blows did I recieve...I couldn't say for sure. Mostly hits from close range with the tonfas and batons, along with an occasional spent gun swung like a club. Though I was sure that the damage I recieved was minimal, I felt none of them save the impression of being hit. I was at such an adrenaline high that I don't think I would've felt it if I were shot. I just continued on, going further and further in the underground labrynth until I thought with humor that it was like I was digging my own grave.

Then came the door, the tall imposing door. I skidded to a halt, staring at the door as both hot and cold flooded my chest in an eerie, yet intensley exciting feeling. Legs trembling slightly, I licked my lips. Though I'd never seen this door before, I knew it. Behind it lay my enemy, my goal: Bishop.

Instantly Al was beside me, smiling in a way that made you want to take a step back. I stared back at him the same way, lightly touching the door. My heart thudded hard against my ribcage. As my fingers touched the handle I suddenly thought of Raph, trying to keep me from entering a door by gripping a similar handle.

_Don't!_

I started and stared at my longtime friend, eyes wide. Immediately he pointed towards the door. _Bishop._

Smiling, I swung it open in a percieved calm that I hadn't exhibited the entire evening. Then I saw him. There. On the other side of the room. BISHOP.

He swung around, papers scattered about the desk before him in a haphazard, panicked way. The surprise in his eyes flicked away almost before I realized it was there, replaced by a dark certainty. A cold, calculated smile spread on his lips and his eyes narrowed in the cocky, confident way that he had, the one that I remembered so well. "So," he spoke, his low, even voice sending a shiver up my spine. He was as I remembered him. Dark, sure, dressed in a professional yet highly functional suit. His eyes met mine, never quavering. "I spend all this time looking for you and you find me. How convenient."

Despite myself my knees trembled. He was too confident, too poised...could I do this? Immediately in my mind flashed the half dozen times I nearly escaped, only to be stopped by him with a few calculated moves. I could never beat him before...

_NO!_

I started out of my wanderings, seeing Al standing near Bishop. _He may have beaten you before, but you are ready now! You can do this! Let me help you! This is the only way we can be together forever! THINK OF WHAT HE DID TO YOU!!!_

He was right. He was always right. With a snarl playing across my lips I shreiked as I launched myself bodily towards him. I cleared the distance in a single leap, fingers curled like tenderhooks, mouth bared, every muscle wired.

Yet it wasn't enough.

Perhaps it was the animalistic way that I had of fighting, perhaps it was the countless days and nights chained in a cell or locked in a closet instead of exercising my body and mind...perhaps it was many things...Either way, this was different than I thought.

I hadn't even had a chance to strike him when he glided to the side out of my reach and struck me hard on the back of the neck with the point of his elbow. Instant pain blossoming in the site, I hurtled towards the ground. Catching myself on my hands I tried to propell my legs to strike him in the face. Yet before my legs had a chance to begin their motion, his foot connected hard in my gut, just below my sternum. Grunting as all my wind immediately left my lungs, I landed on my shell, momentarily out of breath and stunned.

He never gave me a chance to recover. Grabbing my wrist he jerked me towards him. Sliding on my shell, his foot met my temple in a swift kick that literally sent me spinning with a new type of pounding pain in my brain.

Scrambling for gripping I managed to find it just as I crashed into a tall exam table. Hands planted on the floor I stopped myself from spinnong more on my shelljust as he came at me swiftly, his expensive leather shoes hardly making a sound on the tile. Yet he still made a sound.

Bishop came flying at me, his foot aimed at a spot on my head that would've sent me out. Pushing my feet against the exam table, I slid easily across the floor on my shell, grabbing his other foot and sending him to the ground. Catching himself on his hands he glared at me as he kicked at my face with his other foot. Catching it with my free hand, I kicked at him in return, blood spurting out his nose where my calloused heel kissed it.

Hardly had my leg flexed for another strike that he snatched a thin, stainless steel stool and flipped it at me. I only had time to see it coming and let go of his ankles before it struck me solidly between the eyes, my hands not quick enough to catch it. Stars burst momentarily in my vision as I clapped my hands to my face with a hoarse, high pitched cry, blood seeping between my fingers. Then something equally hard and cold hit me hard in my side, then my shoulder, then my chest. Grunting and clutching at the explosions of pain, I gasped and looked up to see him standing over me, a metal pipe in each hand, pounding them against my flesh. Instinctively I cried out and kicked.

Even a man of his stature won't take a hard heel-kick to the groin with grace. The pipes clattered to the ground and he doubled over with an odd squealing sound as I scrambled away, struggling to regain my footing. Once I did, I saw the world was more than just unsteady, it spun and rocked. The combination blows to the head with the spinning on my shell did my sense of balance no justice. Blood leaking in my eyes, I squinted at him for an instant, blinking hard until the image cleared slightly and rushed at him once more.

I heard the slight chuckle too late. Snatching one of the metal pipes, he instantly righted himself and swung it. My balance being off-key, I tried to duck but only succeeded in skidding to my shell just as the end of the pipe connected with my chin in an upward motion. My jaw clipped painfully together and my vision faltered into blackness for an instant just as I saw it coming to my face in a second blow with sent me thumping to the floor hard enough to bounce my head off the tile.

It was too much.

Everything seemed to stop for an instant. My body lax, I crumpled to the floor, blowing chunky blood out my nose, twitching slightly as the blows came again and again and again. My head, nothing but a solid ball of pain, confusion, and rolling injury constantly threatening blackout, had clearly had enough of the precisely aimed blows. My body, confused at the weak, mixed signals coming from my rattled brain, feebly made motions but were forcefully struck down. The pain in my face and head intense, I hardly seemed to notice the other blows other than as yet another sharp pain in my body. I gaped air from my mouth like a half drowned fish, my nose too clogged with my own body tissue to function, and my blurry, blood soaked vision revealing little, I slowly broke down.

Tears slowly leaked from my eyes even as I purposely removed myself, just as I had done so many times in the cell and on the exam table. Away from the pain, away from the torment, away from everything. I removed myself even as I blacked out. Within me I sobbed deep wracking sobs, crying at my own inadequacy, at my own failures, at my own mistakes. With sorrow etching hard furrows in my soul, I pictured kind, patient, honest and forthright Raph crumpled on the floor by my hand. Leonardo and Donatello doing their best in their own way to help me heal, whether through training or treatment. And Splinter, my father, being my guiding spirit, yet I never even knew it. I laughed at myself. I screwed up my own destiny, my own 'goal.' Whether it was through not seeing my own mistakes or spending one too many nights locked in a cell or in a closet instead of being at my peak like Bishop and my brothers...I still failed them, my family.

Even through the misty confusion of my own mind and place Al leaned in close. _Do not think of them. They are not here in your hour of need. I am. I am your one true friend, not them. Do not think of them._

Squinting, I looked at him. For the first time that night I allowed myself to feel the unease that had been following me. "No, you left." I mumbled, looking at my prone body being beaten on the floor just as I had so many times during surgery.

Al was incensed.

_They MADE me leave you! I would never leave you on my own! NEVER! YOU ARE MINE!_

I shook my head. "No, you made me hurt Raph. I-I thought you were going to hurt him and I did instead..." I clapped my face in my hands, even in this astral place my mind wobbled. What was I thinking!

He got in close, drilling his eyes into mine. _NO! You were in self defense! He was preventing you from your goal!_

For the first time I can remember with us by ourselves, I didn't shrink back from his onslaught. A new kind of feeling swelled within me even through the anger and pain. "I never would've gotten here if he hadn't-"

_NO! NO! NO! I led you here, not him! It was me who brought you here!_

He stomped his foot. He raged. He riled, staring at me with angry eyes. With his face purpled with rage, he suddenly reminded me of a child throwing a tantrum.

I laughed, sputtering blood from my mouth even in my subconscious. "You brought me to my death..."

_You cannot die! Whatever happens here will only bring you closer to me! You are mine, you just forgot! I MADE YOU!!!_

I shuddered at the words. I thought of how I used to be, how carefree, how joyful, how lighthearted. Then I thought of what I just did. How many blood was on my skin, on my hands, on my soul. The thought rocked my core. Al screamed at me, yet I couldn't make out his words. I didn't care. Were they truly guilty? Did I just slaughter the innocent? The thought was too far for me to take any further and I approached the edge. Sobbing, I looked over, so easy to end it all, free this world from my existence...

Something slapped my face again, jolting me awake. Blinking through swollen eyes and blurry vision, I saw Bishop's face. He smiled in a way that made my blood boil. "Don't go yet, Michelangelo. Don't go yet." I blinked slowly, listening to his footsteps echoing away slightly. Struggling to right my head, I moaned under my breath as my head spun, pounded, and sent sharp stabs of pain down my spine all at the same time. Trying to lift my hand, I found it too heavy to be worth the effort and gave up before it left the floor. Slowly I flexed my fingers. Even this simple action brought torrents of pain shooting up my arm.

Slowly the world cleared and I found myself in the same room, yet carefully propped up against some far cabinets. Bishop moved about a table with purposeful calmness, his true anxiety showing in his slightly shaking hands. Numbly I wondered what could be so important to risk everything when his base was under attack, but couldn't make it beyond that point. As he turned to retrieve something from a cupboard, I caught a glimpse of his face. He sported several ripe-looking bruises that I managed to give him. Though it was nothing in comparison from what he gave to me. He must've continued to beat me even when I passed out. I closed my eyes, willing myself away from the pain as I had done so many times before.

"I had a purpose for you, Michelangelo." I blinked before I realized that Bishop was speaking as he worked with the object on th table. Finding the effort too much I closed my eyes and didn't respond. Somehow I could feel him looking at me before he continued. "True, I liked the torture, I enjoyed the pain you felt, but I truly did have a purpose. Those parts, those organs, the grafts from your skin, the samples from your eyes, the operations on your joints, like all my other projects they have a higher purpose."

A voice from my distant, innocent past quipped up: he was monologuing. Just like all the supervillians do in my old comic books, they talk seemingly to themselves when they knew the hero was down and didn't think he'd get back up; when they were sure of victory. I resisted the urge to smirk, both because of the pain I knew it would cause and that I thought that Bishop suspected that I had passed out again. For the first time since I invaded the place, my mind was thinking of my possible next step. I couldn't let him win.

"You see," He continued his pace becoming slightly more hurried. "I had tried to make my own beings in the past, but they all failed. They were too weak physically, or any life that I gave them made them psychotic and impossible to control. So I needed a fresh start. A new beginning. I needed to take steps to fullfill my dream of my own army. And you, Michelangelo, fit the bill perfectly."

I had no idea what he was talking about, and I was getting closer and closer to not caring any longer. Somehow I knew that if I could just fall asleep, the sleep might be deep enough that I might not wake up....after all that I could remember that didn't seem like such a bad idea...

"It was your DNA, the mutation that exists in every cell in your body. It is priceless, unfortunately, it turned out to be much harder to reproduce than I ever imagined."

_Michelangelo! Michelangelo! You cannot even be thinking of leaving! He still lives! He still breathes! Kill him and we can be together forever!_

I smiled as Al hissed the words in my ear. I didn't care anymore. Why should I care? He's already won, hasn't he? He's already beaten me, why give him the opportunity to do it again? Besides, I think that I can choose my own fate, even if it doesn't include Al...

It was like he read my mind, something that for some reason I had never considered before.

_DON'T YOU DARE talk like that! You are MINE!_

Darkness taunted at my mind, flounting it's sweet pain free world in eternity. Dreamily I drifted towards it, welcomed it, reached out for it, ready for it's cold, everlasting embrace...

"Ah ah ah! No you don't!" Once again the steely hands rocked my from my promised eternal slumber, this time gripping me hard on my arms thus sending waves of pain deep within my body. Clenching my teeth, I curled my fingers and hissed at the sensation. Bishop laughed at me under his breath as he hoisted me into his arms with a bit of effort on his part. "You see, turtle..." he continued his monologue, his voice grunting under my weight. I simply allowed myself to be lifted, nearly immobile with the pain of him pressing on my bruised body with his forceful grip. "...I cannot finish my experiment with you dead..."

Non-too-gently he flopped me on a cold exam table. Instantly the familiar feeling caused my heart to race, yet I forced myself to calm down. Somehow the pain radiating from every part of my body, reawakened in flame with his rough handling, did much to clear my head. I was rushed out of the darkness's grip with a savage jerk and I found myself very much awake, very much aware. Still purposely keeping my eyes downcast and drowsy looking, I let them wander aimlessly, something telling me this was the right thing to do. Best to let him think that I'm still clambering for death's door...

Bishop smirked, obviously buying into it. I resisted a smile myself. Sometimes his cockyness could get the best of him...moving my hand slightly I touched something that felt intimately familiar and immediately tucked it in my palm. Bishop continued.

"...I cannot awaken my pet without your forfeit." He smiled, gesturing to the table beside mine.

Pet? Peeking out of the corner of my eye to where he pointed and the sight of it made my breath freeze in my lungs.

Al gasped. _It's...it's...it's.._

It was...me.

Only from parts of me. It was a patchwork turtle, made from different parts, parts I recognized, others that were obviously manufactured. But the skeletel structure, the shell, the dome head...he was making his own mutant. Grotesque and discolored, it lay there lifelessly with closed eyes and puckered skin. Suddenly I trembled all over. This must surely be the work of madness, this was...crazy. A shadow cast over me and I looked up at him through slitted eyes.

He leaned over me, a smile playing beneath the surgical mask he'd donned. "I see you've met your equivical brother. I do hope you're impressed with him. He was several years in the making, which was why I had to keep you so long. In essence, I had to wait for technology to catch up with what I was doing, but I did it. Unfortunately you escaped before I could make the final step and provide my pet with a brain. Something that you can easily provide, I imagine."

_Michelangelo! NO!_

I felt the strap tighten around my wrist before I realized what he was doing.

He was tethering me down for my final surgery. My brain surgery. To give to that thing like he'd been doing. He finished the strap, still obviously beliving me too close to death to make a real fight. "A sacrifice you'd be willing to make for the future of mankind on my behalf of course." He smirked at me.

The cold steel that I'd tucked in my palm seemed to burn in my hand and I gripped it hard.

As he reached over me for my other hand, I gritted my teeth and shoved everything away, the intense pain, my mental turmoil, Al now screaming in a corner...and plunged the scalpel into his chest.

The stainless steel blade slid easily between his ribs. I could feel it as it punctured the wall of his heart, the warmth of his arterial blood already wetting his shirt. Removing my shaking hand, I stared at the handle sticking out of his chest as it throbbed in tune with his heartbeat. His eyes wide with shock, he stared at me and moved his hands towards the scalpel in numb silence. Glaring right back into those hated eyes, I pushed the surgical tool completely into his chest with the palm of my hand.

With a grunt he faltered, going down to one knee. With clawed hands he gripped my shoulders, his wide, shocked eyes staring straight into mine. I gripped him back, coming off the table, holding him partially up as he slowly fell to the floor. The front of his jacket was saturated with blood to the point that it was dripping to the floor in a steady flow. His mouth contorting, though not a sound coming out, he continued to stare into my eyes.

He knew.

He was dying.

"You're through," I whispered.

I lay there and watched those eyes, watched as the light slowly left the pupils, as the eyelids relaxed, the breath eased out of his lungs and his hands released their feindish grip. Completely placid, he lay there in my grip, eyes half open yet cold, hands resting on the floor yet lax...Even then I stared at him again for a moment longer, waiting for him to laugh at me, to get back up, to mock me with my failure, but none happened.

He was truly dead.

_YES!!! He is finally dead! YOU DID IT!!!_ Al whooped and hollered beside me as I lay there, still staring at his body. Somehow I had thought that I would feel...different upon his death. That everything would be better. That I would be back to normal. Yet if I felt anything, it was a small inadequate semblance of closure, one more loose end clipped.

_What are you lying around for? We have to get out of here! Remember the alarms? We need to go!_

Within that visit to the spirit world, the nearness that I had brushed with death, my family rescuing me...something had changed within me. I needed something else...something else to bring an end to it all...one more loose end...

_GET UP!!! Get up NOW! Do as I say! We can't risk letting your family capture you again! Who knows what they'd do to you! You need to remain with me! Forever!_

Slowly, methodically I looked up at my friend. The friend that I had a sudden sense, would realize my train of thought as I slowly whispered something while staring straight into his eyes...

"One more loose end..."

* * *

A/N: think this chapter was one of my longest! IHope the killing of Bishop was satisfactory for you who couldn't wait for him to die. With luck I scrored pretty well so far as getting Mikey's 'change of mind' thing with Al. Let me know if I need to build up on it or not with the next chapter. Which reminds me, I'm predicting only two more chapters with this story, so I hope you're getting your fill! Please leave a review and let me know what you think, reviews never fail to motivate more writing!

On a side note, I want to encourage everyone to nominate their favorite stories for the TMNT fanfiction competition and make it interesting. You can get all the information you need online at Stealthy Sories where all rules, regulations and nomination categories are listed. The nominations end on Feb 4 so be sure to speak up before then! I encourage all of you to spread similar messages throughout TMNT fanfiction!

Toodles!


	10. Loose Ends

Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles

A/N: Took me longer to get back to this than I realized! I got a review and a few authors pegging this under alerts and such, made me realize that other people haven't forgotten about this either! Now that I'm through studying for my mid-terms, my advancement exam, and started on a MUCH needed break from work, I'm going to try to wrap up this story. Thanks to Raphfreak and Pretender Fanatic for helping me to hammer out the details. My prediction is about 2 more chapters, though I have been wrong before...hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 10

Loose Ends

Al stared at me, a look of understanding slowly dawning on his face before finally contorting in rage. _How dare you suggest such a thing! It is only because of me that you're alive! YOU NEED ME!!!_

For some reason, unlike all the other times of confrontation, it didn't have his desired effect on me. An entirely new feeling welled up in me as I saw Al in the different, unfiltered light. "No, Al, you're wrong." I leaned back on the exam table, closing my eyes and concentrating on breathing as I slowly unstrapped myself. My voice was trembling but I didn't care. "You're wrong. You're the one who needs me. If it weren't for me then you wouldn't exist."

_NO!!! Your'e WRONG!!! You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me!!!_

Wincing as the last strap popped itself off my ankle and I slowly moved my aching body to the side of the table I managed a painful chuckle. Here I was, covered in blood, beaten with a metal pipe, in a facility that was likely to be stormed by troopers or something...the thought that I should thank him for that...the irony of it seemed to play with my mind in a way that hadn't happened for a long, long time.

_You know what I mean, Michelangelo!_ He sputtered, his face turning purple. _I led you to Bishop, it is because of me that he is dead and you are not!_

Looking down past my dangling feet, I looked at the lifeless body lying on the floor. Slowly easing my battered body down from the table I nudged him with my foot as though despite the pool of blood on the floor that he might still be alive. Even though I had killed him but a moment ago, for some reason I was surprised to find that he was still warm. He always struck me as such a cold person, especially in death. Yet, after passing...he was just like everybody else. Staring down at him, my enemy for so long, I was still surprised that I could not summon the righteous rage that I had expected to feel. The triumph. The glee. Yet instead...it was as though I had simply done something that needed to be done and that was the end of it. Like taking out the trash. It was over. At the moment I felt...nothing.

Slowly I turned my head towards Al, knowing in my mind that he was reading my thoughts, reading my mood. And I knew why, I knew how. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath of resignation I looked at my old friend again in a different light. My thoughts turned towards a different path, one that I had never truly approached before. The thought of even going down that path, away from my only friend for so long seemed ominous and terrifying...yet with only a slight hesitation I took a step towards it. He saw it and his face paled. He was frightened. _"Michelagelo...you know I love you, right? We'll always be together. That's just the way it is wi-"_

"No, Al." I whispered, slowly limping over to him, past Bishop, past the exam table, past the frankenstein version of me..."No, we won't."

_You can't mean that! Think of all that we've been through! Think of all that we've helped each other heal! We belong together! I am part of you just as you are part of me! WE NEED EACH OTHER!"_

The pain in my skull, the one not resulting from the beating made itself known again, though I hurt too much all over to wince at the sensation. The feeling of pulling, of something trying to break free. Looking up I almost didn't notice Al wincing in such a familiar way...a sudden understanding flashed brightly in my mind and my body, not realizing how long it held onto its tension, suddenly relaxed. Closing my eyelids, I dared a slight smile. "We are a part of one, I just didn't realize how much until now. I can't believe how blind..." groaning I slowly slid down amongst scattered surgical instruments as a wave of dizziness struck me like a solid blow, leaning heavily against a cold steel cabinet even as red strobe lights continued to flash. "I did need you, I needed someone. Then you were there, you were helping me...So what I think I did..." I looked at him even as I fingered the shining instruments on the floor "is that I created you. You really are a part of me. That's why only I can see you, and you can read my thoughts, and..."

_No Michelangelo!_

I laughed hoarsely, resisting the urge to nurse my bruised sides as I did so. "But it makes so much sense...I've heard about that kind of thing before. On TV, in movies, even in my old comics..." the thought of those familiar yet foreign booklets of paper threatened tears to my eyes, memories of long ago. "I needed you and I'm grateful for you being there. Without you...I may not have survived. I..."

_You don't realize what you're saying! We belong together! Please! PLEASE Michelangelo! I can be your family!_

Licking my lips, I closed my eyes to the sight of him so desperate. To the sight of him in such emotional pain. Tears threatened hotly. My friend, and here I was being so cruel to him. He knew the end was near for him, but the images of my family; including Raph lying on the floor made me clench my fists. No, no more loose ends..."Please," I whispered, my voice cracking, "I do love you too, you were my friend for a long time, but you're different now. You've...transformed, mutated on your own. Maybe it was because of my ninja training, how close I swam in the astral plane...I don't know. I didn't realize it until now but...Al..."I opened my eyes, the hot tears now spilling from my eyes on riverlets, fuzzing the image of him aghast and surprised "I don't need you anymore. I'm sorry. My family is here now. Please, go in peace, I'll always remember you. Please."

Almost as if on cue I heard a shout from far beyond the door. Intimately familiar. Raph. Slightly further behind he was quickly followed by a chorus of other voices. My brothers. They were here for me.

_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!_

Suddenly before my eyes, Al contorted himself. A pulse of air shot from him like a ripple in the water. It struck me as a physical blow to the chest and caused the instruments around us to rattle suddenly. Gasping, suddenly trembling in fear and shock, I stared at my friend with trepidation as he stood there, stooped over, clenched fists in front of his face.

His image flickered, but not like before in the lair. Somehow he became more...real. More solid, substantial. Another pulse of energy emenated out from him, once again pushing against me and all the other objects in the room. My heart fluttered slightly as a cold feeling quickly washed from my chest and my breath came in smaller, quicker gasps. THis had never happened...this wasn't SUPPOSED to happen! Al wasn't really real, right? What was happening! The painful pulling in my head became more intense, more tangible. It was almost more than I could stand.

At that moment Raph appeared in the doorway. With a quick scan of the room he spotted me and in an instant bolted in my direction, my name being shouted from his lips. Another pulse of air from Al knocked him off his feet and sent him crashing into a supply cabinet. Suddenly on alert, Raph scrambled to his feet amongst the countless instruments now littering the floor with both sai clutched in his hands, looking around for his enemy.

Then, to both my surprise and his, he looked in Al's direction, squinted his eyes, then snapped them open in utter shock even as the rest of the turtles came in the doorway. "What the fu-"

He never had a chance to finish his sentence as yet another pulse came from my friend, knocking him and the other turtles completely off their feet. With an animalistic shout Al uncurled himself and straightened out fully, fists clenched and shouting towards the air. Then, ubruptly, his image flickered slightly as he fixed me with a determined stare and his face wore an expression of slight malice. Jabbing a finger at me, he growled "_You are mine, you always will be. You cannot choose your family over me...if they are all dead._"

The heads of all my brothers whipped in his direction with expressions of utter shock and disbelief. They heard him. They could see him! I realized what was happening. Somehow he _was_ making himself more...real...normally he had me do his fights for me but I was in no position to throw a single punch. He was doing it himself instead...

With a roar of animal rage, he flung himself at my brothers. Yelling, they righted themselves and charged him as well. Leo dove in deep, katana glinting in the flourescent lighting. Yet Al's image flickered again, as if a bad picture in a television while Leo drifted right through the image. As soon as he was though, crazed Al screamed and delivered a vicious kick to the back of Leo's head, sending him face first to the floor. Don charged in with his bostaff, only to have the image flicker again, Don go through Al unscathed, and a very solid blow being dealt to the brainy turtle.

Raph was upon him like a frenzy, but like with the other two Al could not be touched. For a moment I almost thought that he would do it, that he would hit him by how he leapt from one place to the other, throwing in kicks, punches and stabs in various places. Al hardly had a chance to keep up with his 'flickering' to prevent his own harm. But he found a way. Another brother was sent to the tile floor.

This continued for what must've been seconds but seemed like hours in my eyes as I watched in utter disbelief. It was impossible for him to be touched, yet he was delivering vicious blows to my brothers. I watched as Raph tried to reach me again, ignoring Al only to be thwarted by the same enemy with a vicious kick. I winced as my brother fell to the floor once agian. Tears still streaming down my cheeks, my tongue dry in my mouth, I wondered how this could all happen. Even if I DID create Al, then he'd only be imaginary, right?

Don being sent careening into the door was a solid reminder of otherwise. I shook my head, ignoring the delerious spinning that it caused. Limbs shaking, I slowly regained my feet. Swaying slightly, I gripped the counter and took a deep breath, wincing again at the pain in my head. I had to help, I had to stop him, I had to save my brothers, I had too...

Wait!

What was it that I had said earlier? Frantically I searched my thoughts, even as mad, murderous chaos occurred around me. It was only a moment ago...I had suggested that perhaps Al transformed himself through my past contact with the astral plane...

Opening my eyes I stared at the scene. My brothers couldn't touch him, yet they were getting battered because of me. I had to fix this. This was my fault, I had to deal with it myself.

Scooting back to the floor, I forced my battered legs to assume the lotus position, feet perfectly crossed in the middle. With a deep breath of hopeful relaxation and fingers pursed together at my knees. I heard one of my brothers...Don from the sound of it...yelp in real pain but I forced my mind from it. There was no way that I could help my brothers physically. It was only through another way that I could set things right. Or at least I hoped so.

Again I don't know how long it took, but it felt like an instant. I was in a bright world that seemed to be shrouded in mist and fog. I felt healthy, unbattered, free. Taking a moment to get my bearings, I searched for the one I needed. We were one, two parts of the same whole, it shouldn't take long to find him.

And it didn't.

When I finally saw him, he didn't look...real. He was semi-transparent and looked visibly winded. We locked eyes but for the moment said nothing, each surprised to see the other. I stared at him, taking a moment to piece together his appearance. Then it made sense. He was concentrating conscious effort to do what he was doing in the real world...of course he'd be weaker here! The realization gave me a boost of confidence until I looked up and gasped.

It was a chain, or what likely symbolized a chain. An erethral, pastel colored chord joined both of us, running from my head to his. Lightly I touched my skull, recognizing it as the same place where I felt the pain, the same place that Splinter 'loosened.' Suddenly I understood. It was our connection to each other. What kept us together, what kept him coming back.

The realization must've been obvious on my face, for Al called hoarsely to me. I looked at him and shook my head as I reached for the only link binding us together.

_NO Michelangelo! It would destroy us!_

"No, only you." My hands wrapped around the chilly, ghostly chain and I tugged. It brought a fresh wave of pain to go rocketing through my body, making me gasp. He stared at me in anxious silence, expending too much energy to fight my brothers in the real world to concentrate too much on what was happening here. It was only after the fifth tug, after it sent such a shockwave of raw pain through me so hard that I fell to the ground, that he smiled and continued to concentrate on the fight.

It wasn't working.

Tears in my eyes, I covered my face with both hands, sobbing in both pain and an extreme sense of failure. I heard another one of my brothers scream a real scream, it sounded so far away yet so stabbing...I shook myself, slowly getting to my feet and reaching for Al. But he was concentrating to hard on destroying my brothers, on killing my family...my hand passed right through him.

I sobbed anew. Even though we were one, we were part of one another...I couldn't control him. I couldn't control it. I had tried banishing him, telling him to leave...obviously he was much stronger than I had thought, perhaps stronger than me. Even though we were one...

Suddenly I stopped at that thought and stared at him, the entire spirit world and astral plane slowly fading from my field of vision. We were one...maybe I can control him!

Opening my eyes in the real world I saw the effects of the bloody battle. Don seemed to be only able to put weight on one foot, Leo was not only favoring an arm but had a fresh chunk taken out of his shell, and Raph looked like he'd been pounded to a pulp, his face already swelling, a limp in his left leg amongst other things. I looked down at the surgical tools that littered the ground around me, not completely believing what I was about to do. Then I took a look at my family, what they were doing for me, what they have already done for me and I knew that I had to do it. It was the only way.

Somehow, through seeing our connection in the astral plane I could still make it out in the real world, the semi-solid link binding Al and I together. Picking up a scalpel, I looked directly at Al and said in a voice as loud as I could muster. "We are of one body, one mind Al."

He smiled as he sent Raph back into the already severely dented door. _Yes, Michelangelo, we are. That is why we will always be together. With or without your family. I go where you go._

I licked my lips, closed my eyes as I inhaled deeply and looked at him again. He had paused in the fighting to stare at me, grinning, giving my brothers a chance to catch their breath. But he didn't care, they couldn't touch him anyway. Lifting the scalpel, the red strobe light flashed upon it, making it look all the more eerie. "Wherever I go, you go..."

_Yes, Michelangelo, my friend, that is the way it works. We will always be together._

"So what you're saying is if I leave this world then you'll have no choice but to follow..."

His smile dissappeared from his face. Confusion flashed before he saw what was in my mind, then I saw panic in his eyes. _What? Michelangelo...you can't be-_

"And then you will no longer be a danger to my brothers or anyone else and neither will I. The world would be a better place, because you must follow me..."

The steel scalpel suddenly felt like ice in my hand. Al's voice became more frantic as he rushed to me. I could hear the muffled exclamations from my brothers as they pulled themselves off the ground, realizing that something in the battle had changed but not quite sure what it was. All but Raph, who's eyes were fixed on mine, his brown eyes nearly unreadable as he literally heaved himself to his feet to rush at me as well, scared words forming on his lips.

The blade trembled in my hand and I hesitated. It seemed like such slow motion, both Al and Raph rushing towards me, ironically going towards the same goal...to stop me from doing what needed to be done. But as I looked at Al, as I thought of the damage that we have caused, I knew that it couldn't stay like this.

The blade sank cleanly into my wrists and immediately bright red arterial blood welled to the surface as I sliced the radial artery. My hand suddenly steady and calm, I continued the circuit around the inside of my wrist before switching to the other.

For some reason I hardly noticed the pain, it hardly seemed like more than an insect bite. Somehow, even the hot blood that was slowly covering my skin even seemed relaxing. I watched in fascination as the crimson liquid continued to come, my body becoming more and more languid and lethargic even as I watched. It took me a moment to realize the hands grasping my arms and shaking me, but when I looked up and saw Raph's frantic face all I could manage was a weak smile. Relax, Raph, relax. It's over, all this chaos, all this pain and torment...its all over. I couldn't hear what he was saying, it was like I was leaving my own body...it didn't look like he understood...but he would. I would free him, free myself.

Glancing past him I saw Al, standing there in shock as my life fluid drained from my body. I was surprised about how weak I felt yet I welcomed it. It was like being in a hot bath...slowly drifting...sleep beckoning... Even as I drifted off amidst the scramblings of my brothers I watched Al slowly fade from sight. I looked up and saw the link, the chain binding us together disseminate, break up right before my eyes. He was gone and it was over.

The slow drift, the languid sleep still beckoned and I smiled at it. How many times had I wondered what this would feel like? How many times did I want to feel this? Too many. My brothers still scrambled around me, doing something to me but I hardly noticed. They would understand, they would understand why I had to do this. I had fixed everything I messed up, set everything straight for the first time in a long time. I looked at the welcoming darkness and wondered whether or not I should turn to it, return it's warm, soothing embrace.

Even as I was pondering the heaviness finally became too much for my eyes and the last thing I could do before everything went black was a barely audible whisper:

"I love you guys."

* * *

A/N: This is NOT the last chapter, remembery guys! I would like to thank the last few reviewers who reminded me that people still wanted to know what was happening, since reviews tend to get the writing bug planted in me. So please leave something and let me know what you think and I promise you I will do my best to make the wait for the next chapter not nearly as long as this one. (sorry bout that, btw!) For those of you still waiting on my zombie fic I will also try to light the fire under that one as well.

Again let me know what you think and I hope that you enjoyed this new installment.

Toodles!


	11. Revival

Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT

A/N: Well, I literally had hell the last couple of months but finally things are calming down and the writing bug won't leave me alone. Hopefully my leave of absence hasn't caused me to lose too many readers and you'll enjoy this last chapter. Special thanks to Raphfreak and Damgel to help me hammer things out and for inspiration.

Chapter 11

Revival

The sight before my eyes looked somehow intimately familiar, yet at the moment I didn't recognize a fragment of it. The lines, the color, the texture...I slowly blinked and stared hard at it, not sure what exactly I was looking for. It was almost as if it was a speck, as if I were a speck and I was floating in... Stretching, my limbs twitched yet they didn't move. I looked for them but somehow they weren't there. Like they didn't exist. Something warm was behing me, spreading healthy soothing light upon my shell. It was so inviting, so beckoning...I slowly turned my head...which wasn't my head?...but something about that speck, about that familiarity...

Fleeting memories danced in my head. I grasped at them, but they slipped from my grip. What was I doing here? I could still feel the light on my shell. Immediately I knew exactly what it would bring...warmth, peace, tranquility. Wasn't that what I wanted? Squinting, I stared at the speck once more. What was it about that...that thing? I could sense the pain, the betrayal, the agony, sadness, anger...yet something else was mixed in with it. That easy comfort, the kindness, joy, laughter...love? Some of the memories brushed the inside of my head, jolting me stiff yet I still could not...

Without realizing what I was doing I began to swim towards it, seeking something that I didn't know, that I didn't remember yet I do. I touched the speck tentatively and immediately emotions flashed through me like a torrent. I felt the anger, rage, sadness, despondency, joy, frustration, laughter, pain, love... I only hesitated for an instant before I plunged full bodied into it.

My eyes, my actual eyes, opened with a jolt and almost immediately I noticed the throbbing, pulsating pain that emanated from my body and shot to every inch of my core. Gritting my teeth and stiffling a groan, I stared blankly ahead at the ceiling before trying to move. The pain fired throughout my body with renewed energy at my movements, but for some reason I welcomed the feeling while cringing before it. It was the feeling of familiarity, the pain. Without thinking about it I mentally reached out for a connection but was temporarily startled to grasp onto nothing. My heart going cold, I reached again before I remembered.

He was gone.

I shook my head, bringing forth waves of dizziness. Memories continued to dance before my eyes, this time revealing themselves to me fully piece by piece. Al, Bishop, my family... blood ... That I would have to get used to that emptiness, the lonliness... Instinctively at the thought of it I flexed my wrists only to find that they wouldn't move. They felt...tight. My hands suddenly feeling heavy, I lifted them up to see my wrists wrapped tightly in multiple layers of pristine white guaze. My fingers stuck out of the ends of the bandage, slightly discolored from the tightness of the wrapping but still getting plenty of circulation. Then I saw the slender IV catheter inserted into my forearm, taped firmly in place, with clear plastic tubing leading to a bag tied to a pole by my bed dripping a clear solution into it. I temporarily thought about pulling it out, but for some reason decided to leave it where it was. Trying to get up, I immediately found out that the slight pressure on my wrists made my arms buckle with, leaving me lying on the mattress once more, trembling in pain. Taking a deep, shaky breath I rolled to my side, using my elbow to push up my body wieght. Sitting upright brought a new wave of dizziness and discoloration to my vision. Blinking hard, I waited until it cleared and looked around the room.

It was my room. Lying on a side table by my bed was a strip of orange cloth with two eyeholes cut into it. Slowly I reached over to it and picked it up, feeling the loose, worn fabric run through my rough calloused fingers. I stared at it in my hand for a moment, knowing that it was technically a part of me, yet not feeling completely at ease with the thought of it. As if it read my mind, the soft fabric caught on one of the sharper callouses in my fingers. Releasing it from my hand I stared at it. Something else tied around my body just like so many bondings. Though I felt that surely I would return to this, perhaps pick it up agan, for now I gently laid it back down on the side table, smoothing it out with my fingers before looking away.

Comics stacked the corners and crisp new superhero posters decorated the walls. I scrunched my eyes at them, somehow distinctly remembering tearing them apart when I first arrived... Getting up, trembling on my weak, sore and battered legs, I stood and after grabbing the IV pole and leaning on it for support I made a slow walk over to them. Standing over them I looked at a brightly colored comic book cover featuring a masked and caped superhero with a cleft chin and a fantastic hairdo delivering a solid punch to a slightly frumpled, ugly villian. My finger touched the smooth cover, an odd feeling coming over me. I surprised myself by almost smiling before turning slowly on my stiff legs to see a familiar form in the corner.

In an uncomfortable looking wooden chair was my red-banded brother. One sai was clattered on the floor, both hands limp in his lap, feet splayed out and head hanging off the back of the chair with mouth agape and a trail of drool dribbling down his cheek. I smiled at the sight of him, hardly noticing the pain from my battered body for a moment. Approaching him closer I spontaneously reached out and slightly touched his cheek. Grumbling grumpily, he shifted in the opposite direction and smacked his lips together noisily before slowly starting a rumbing snore. I smiled again, slowly shuffling past him to the door, careful to avoid his splayed feet.

Pushing past the door, I carefully made my way to the living room. The TV screens were showing the salt and pepper channel with two figures passed out on the couch before it. Peering over I saw Leonardo sitting as though he were awake, perfect posture, ramrod straight, save for the closed eyes and slight snore. The second figure took longer to recognize, maybe because of the empty popcorn bag on his head, but the cast encasing one arm brought back a stark reminder of my hand in it. Hearing a clatter I turned away from Leonardo and Casey to see Donatello half hanging off his desk, arm dangling to the floor, face buried in his other arm. April was curled up neatly in a small ratty armchair in the lab.

All was quiet.

Both inside and out.

I slowly sat down in a recliner next to the couch, staring off into space. It felt so odd to not have his presence within me. It was different than when I thought that he was gone the first time, this time he was truly gone for good. Yet already my entire being felt different, more placid...more at peace somehow. The emptiness that I felt before, it didn't seem so empty anymore. I looked around at my family sprawled in different rooms about me. Already I could feel them, and I smiled when I realized that it wasn't emptiness that I was feeling, it was more like potential. Space to be filled with what it was filled with originally. Them. My family.

Slowly I took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly with my eyes closed. Despite the realization I still felt apprehensive about the whole idea, and I knew that it would be difficult at best trying to change what I felt I was always like but was not. So many memories...would I ever remember them? Would I ever be myself again?

Suddenly feeling restless, I heaved myself off the chair and with a slow, pained dragging pace made my way across the living room until I spied an area that caught my eyes. With the same stiff gait I stepped into the kitchen, immediately feeling a little more comforted despite the knife rack and glistening cups of forks and other utensils. In fact if anything I should feel better, all this arsenal at my disposal if need be. But for some reason I didn't feel that compulsion, it was as though I wanted the things in here for a different purpose.

A pan was left out on the stove, ready for something but still unused. Surprisingly I felt a tinge of annoyance that it was left out of place, and somehow knew in my mind where it was supposed to be. Slowly I reached out and touched the handle. The worn metal seemed to fit in my hand even with the clumsy bandage binding my wrists and palms. Smiling slightly I picked it up, my imagination suddenly whirling as I saw something sizzling, hot and tasty flying through the air only to be deftly caught on the flat surface of the pan for another round. I must have stood there for several minutes, flipping an imaginary food item of some sorts when a voice from behind startled me.

"You used to love cooking, Michelangelo. I would love to see you enjoy it again, my son."

Immediately startled, I let the pan fall from my fingers with a large clattering sound that seemed to echo through the Lair. Whipping around the dizziness immediately came over me and I fell backwards, hitting the linoleum floor like a bag of rocks. My body then reminded me of it's battered state by sending fresh waves of pain shooting through my body. Clenching my teeth instinctively to keep from making a sound I looked up to see Splinter rushing towards me with concern and worry etched in his face. Gently he grabbed my arm which was soon followed by another set on my other arm. With the utmost care they hoisted me back to my feet. I was suddenly aware of the noise caused by the uproar of concerned voices. The onslaught at first made me nervous, but as I struggled to relax I found it strangely working as my muscles slowly loosened from their stiff posture and the flushed heat slowly ebbed from my skin.

Still somewhat stiff both from pain and other things I looked around at the gathering of faces before me, all close yet obviously being careful to keep some distance as they waited for me to do something. Realizing that my hands were in an instinctive defensive position, I let them fall slowly and with some effort managed a slight smile.

The reaction was instantaneous. Warm, firm, gentle embraces enveloped me with a shower of reassuring words. Instead of feeling claustrophobic and defensive, it felt soothing and safe, as though they were covering me in a blanket of protection and love.

It was then that I knew, that even though I couldn't forsee it at the moment, I couldn't remember everything from my life with them or even my former self, and that I still felt out of place in my own skin that things would work themselves out. Eventually, with some time and perhaps some luck I would be alright. So long as they were there to support me.

So long as I had them to love me.

My family.

* * *

A/N: Just in case some of you were wondering, if you cut an artery across like you would cut a rope it can be stitched together surgically. If it's deep enough some of the tendons/ligaments can be severed or cut, but those can be repaired too although they're painful and require some physical therapy. It's only when an artery is cut down like you would cut a hot dog bun that the patient is in serious trouble; in cases like those simetimes the limb is lost to save the life. This isn't accounting for blood loss, of course.

On another note, Raphfreak has helped inspire the idea of a Prequel to this story, since not much was explained about Mikey's capture, confinement and downward spiral. I would like some feedback if possible to see if anyone would actually READ the thing, though, since it would be VERY angsty and would end on the 'lowest of low' note that this story began on.

Last note is that if some of you think that a sequel would be nice I would let you know two things: 1. I'm not sure I could pull it off since it would be a very much 'Mikey healing' story and off of that note, 2.I would be more than happy to allow someone else to write it if they felt so inclined, the writer getting full credit of course (i.e. it being under the other writer's name) so let me know on that note if anyone's interested.

Other than that, I really hope that you enjoyed my first turtle-torture fic. Please leave the 'final' review for this story to let me know what you think. Thank you for sticking with me through all of this!

Toodles!


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